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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27496408">When I Get My Hands On You</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/usuallysunny/pseuds/usuallysunny'>usuallysunny</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Lucifer (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Hell, Angst, Chloe Decker Needs A Hug, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Lucifer is King of Hell, Pre-Canon</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 22:07:27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>21,179</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27496408</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/usuallysunny/pseuds/usuallysunny</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>If Chloe Decker was sure of anything, it was that she was a good person.</p><p>She donated to charity. She paid her taxes. She had even swapped the glitz and glamour of Hollywood for a career in law enforcement. So when an accident cuts her life short, she’s shocked to find herself faced with fire and brimstone, rather than the pearly gates of heaven.</p><p>She soon realises it’s not a <i>what<i> that’s brought her here, but a <i>who<i> — the elusive and enigmatic Lucifer Morningstar, the devil himself.</i></i></i></i></p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Chloe Decker/Lucifer Morningstar</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>78</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>616</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hey guys! So this is set in an alternate universe where Chloe is still a gift from God, but dies before Lucifer comes to Earth. She's only just become a cop, so no Trixie yet, and Hell doesn't <i>exactly<i> work in the same way for her... enjoy!</i></i></p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The angel slammed his fist down on the marble table, sending violent tremors throughout the Silver City.</p><p>The Lord spoke his son’s name in a vain attempt to calm him.</p><p>“Amenadiel—”</p><p>“You lied to me,” the angel hissed, “you <em>used</em> me.”</p><p>“I never lied. I withheld the whole truth.”</p><p>Amenadiel laughed but it was a cold and bitter sound.</p><p>“Now you sound like <em>him.”</em></p><p>God sighed, unfurling the hands in his lap. He laid them on the stone arms of his throne, long fingers snaking calmly around the edges.</p><p>“All those years ago, I instructed you with an important task,” he elaborated on what his son considered a slight, “I am now asking you to <em>continue</em> with that task. A grave error has been made, my son, and I am trusting you to help put it right.”</p><p>Amenadiel closed his eyes, his body vibrating as he attempted to let his rage run off him like the rivers in Eden.</p><p>“All I have ever wanted is to make you proud,” his quiet voice was lined with devastation, the words like poison on his tongue, “that day you sent me down to Earth, I assumed I was carrying out a great work in your name. Instead, I was creating a little <em>girlfriend</em> for my brother. <em>That </em>is the <em>important task</em> you entrusted to the very first of your angels.”</p><p>God stared down at him, firm and unmoved.</p><p>“Yes it was — and if you refuse to see this through, I will ask one of your brothers or sisters.”</p><p>Amenadiel felt the words cut into him, sharp as a dagger. He was the most devoted of God’s angels, dutiful and loyal, and where had it gotten him? He was expendable. If he didn’t do this, Father would simply send down Gabriel or Remiel or maybe even cowardly Michael. He fought back a shudder at that one, imagining what his hot-headed brother would do if he saw his twin.</p><p><em>He had to see this through</em>, he realised. There was no nobility in stubbornness.</p><p>“There’s no need,” he muttered numbly, “I will do whatever you ask.”</p><p>God nodded, indifferent and almost cold.</p><p>“Chloe Decker does not belong in hell,” he started and Amenadiel wanted to shout, wanted to <em>scream — neither does my brother, you tossed your own son aside — </em>but he kept his jaw clenched shut, “I gave my creations free will, the ability to carve their own destinies, but that car was not supposed to hit her. She was not supposed to die. Now fate has delivered her into my son’s hands — to right the wrong of them never having the chance to meet.”</p><p>“So why not just <em>let</em> them meet?” he asked, because he wouldn’t make the mistake of doing his bidding blindly again, “surely it is your <em>will</em> that they do?”</p><p>“At one point, it was,” God murmured, “in a life where my son travelled to Earth and met her there. But now? Fate has dealt a different hand. She’s a good person and she belongs in heaven.”</p><p>Amenadiel blinked before he bowed in defeat, the crack of his wings piercing the air as he unfurled them.</p><p>A couple of decades ago, just the blink of an eye up here, he had visited Earth to bless Penelope and John Decker with a child. Now, it was his job to bring that child to the pearly gates, as though her trip to hell had been some sort of <em>administrative error</em>.</p><p><em>The girl is a puppet</em>, he thought sadly as breached the clouds and soared down below, <em>oblivious to her own powerlessness as she’s dragged in every direction but home.</em></p><p>He grew cold, uneasy, as he tried to predict what his brother would say, what he would do, when he breached the gates of hell. It was impossible. It had been centuries since they’d seen each other, longer still since they had spoken, and he had never exactly been <em>predictable</em> to start with.</p><p>He prayed he arrived before the girl’s punishment began — and if he was too late, he prayed she hadn’t been given to his brother’s favourite leather-clad, sex crazed <em>pet</em>. His mouth pinched at the thought.</p><p>But despite everything — the war and the fall, the banishment and all the pain that had followed — the sad truth was… Amenadiel loved him.</p><p>He loved him then; he loved him still.</p><p>He was reckless and wild, impossible to control. Mother and Father had tried, they had <em>all </em>tried, but he lived by his own rules. He raged against every attempt to shackle him, against the love inside him, against his very name — <em>lightbringer. </em></p><p>He had never concerned himself much with humans. <em>Dad’s little science project</em>, he dryly called them. He had never found them particularly interesting — but if he found out <em>this one</em> was <em>made</em> for him…</p><p>Well, Amenadiel thought he would find that very interesting indeed.</p><p>If Father wanted Chloe Decker back, he had no doubt in his mind that his brother would force her to stay.</p><p>After-all, this was Lucifer — and nothing fired his blood quite like rebellion.<br/>
<br/>
</p>
<hr/><p><br/>
Chloe winced at the throbbing pain searing through her temples as she groggily opened her eyes.</p><p>Her mind fought to catch up with itself as she slowly sat up. The ground beneath her was cold and damp and her hands flitted over dusty stone. Her brows drew into a frown as she blinked, finally sitting upright and trying to decipher something from the darkness.</p><p>Her newly honed cop skills kicked in almost immediately, an instinct that deep down, she had always had. She tried to piece together clues—tried to remember what had <em>happened</em> and where she had <em>been</em>, in order to decipher where she <em>was</em>.</p><p>Dread settled over her skin like a cold blanket when she remembered the crash. She had been crossing the road. Maybe she hadn’t looked both ways, maybe she had, but she remembered there was a scream, the squeal of smoking tires, the sickening crunch of metal and bone, the cold slap of the pavement and the colder rush of wet blood.</p><p>And then there was nothing.</p><p>She glanced at her surroundings again. She seemed to be in a sparse room, or <em>cell, </em>and it was cold and dank, basic furniture scattered around. She could smell smoke and maybe brimstone, the acrid stench of sulfur, and in the distance, she thought she heard a scream.</p><p>Her heart plummeted to her stomach.</p><p>She didn’t need to be a cop to figure out where she was.</p><p>She fought back the sob that welled in her throat, forcing herself to be calm.</p><p>Suddenly the huge stone door was flung open, making the screams sound louder still. They fell away again with a faint echo when a woman walked in and closed the door.</p><p>She looked beautiful but fierce, with dark eyes that glittered like jewels. A smirk that was more sinister than playful curled the edges of her painted red lips, and she was covered head to toe in skin-tight leather.</p><p>The click of her heels on the stone was deafening as she made her way towards Chloe.</p><p>She stood with one hand on her hip, her brow arching casually as her eyes swept over her.</p><p>Chloe’s own eyes narrowed, confusion and anger flaring to life inside her. She was fierce herself, no shrinking violet, and she quickly dusted herself off and stood.</p><p>“Welcome to hell!” the woman grinned eventually.</p><p>Her voice was cheerful but sarcastic and the frankness of it made Chloe balk.</p><p>“Hell?”</p><p>“The one and only—<em>kind of</em>,” the woman shrugged, “and I’m its best demon. My name’s Mazikeen, but you can call me Maze. After-all, we’re going to become <em>very </em>well acquainted over the next millennia or so.”</p><p>Chloe blinked, her eyes and throat burning. A few hours ago, she was full of hope and optimism and on her way to follow a lead on a case and now she was—she was <em>dead—</em>and in <em>h</em><em>ell </em>and face to face with a <em>demon. </em></p><p>It didn’t seem real. It <em>couldn’t </em>be real.</p><p>“Why am I here?”</p><p>The woman—<em>demon</em>—called Mazikeen rolled her eyes and scoffed.</p><p>“You’re here because your pathetic, feeble body gave up and <em>died</em>. Shame… I’ve never been great with human ages, but it looks like yours was quite young.”</p><p>It was Chloe’s turn to roll her eyes.</p><p>“I gathered that much,” she bit out, “I meant why am I in hell? I’m a good person.”</p><p>“What’s your name?”</p><p>“Chloe Decker.”</p><p>“Well, <em>Chloe Decker,</em>” Maze drawled, her tone bored, “that’s what they all say—but there must be something you feel immense guilt about. That’s how it works. <em>You</em> bring yourself down here, no-one else. You're your own jailor... or something like that. I think that's how he describes it, I don't know, I tend to switch off.”</p><p>Chloe wracked her brain.</p><p>She wasn't perfect, she knew that.</p><p>Growing up, she could be spoilt and stubborn and mean and all the other adjectives that came with being a child actress. Most of her teen years were spent trying to rebel against her overbearing mother, sneaking out at night and partying and <em>gasp, </em>having pre-marital sex.</p><p>More than once, she had stolen twenties from her Dad when he wasn’t looking and she never told her Mom it was her who lost their passports on the way to Mexico that time. She went through a dark time when she lost her Dad, she did some things she wasn’t proud of, and she knew turning away from Hollywood and towards a career in his name didn't exactly make up for all of it, but <em>still</em>—</p><p>She <em>was</em> a good person.</p><p>She was kind and generous and she always tried to do the right thing. Her sins were few, certainly not enough to condemn her to eternal damnation, and if it truly was <em>her </em>who decided that, she decided it was <em>bullshit</em>.</p><p>“I don’t belong here,” she insisted, her tone hard and unyielding.</p><p>Maze tipped a brow, looking almost impressed.</p><p>She hesitated for a moment and her eyes swept over her again.</p><p>“You do seem… different,” she conceded slowly, “and <em>this</em>…” she glanced around the bare cell, “is a rather boring punishment. You decide your own hell loop, it’s tailored for each and every one of you. But yours is… empty. Normally I’d come to welcome you while your eyes are being gouged out or you’re walking in on your husband screwing his secretary over and over again.”</p><p>Chloe blinked.</p><p>“I don’t have a husband.”</p><p>“Bat for the other team, huh?” Maze’s eyes sparkled, her expression turning salacious again, “yay for me.”</p><p>Chloe rolled her eyes again, biting back the wave of panic and nausea that rose as bile from the back of her throat.</p><p>“Just tell me how I get out of here.”</p><p>Maze laughed, full bellied and cruel.</p><p>“Oh honey, you don’t get out. Or at least, I’ve never seen it happen. I’m sure whatever’s brought you here, those nasty little secrets you keep inside, will manifest soon enough. Then the fun will really begin.”</p><p>She started to leave, her brow arching, unimpressed, when Chloe grabbed her arm and dragged her back.</p><p>“You can’t just <em>go</em>! There’s been a mistake, I shouldn’t be here!”</p><p>Maze sighed, her patience clearly wearing thin.</p><p>“Look, I’m just the incredibly hot welcome party. You got a problem? Take it up with the big guy.”</p><p>Chloe frowned, releasing her arm and taking a step back.</p><p>“God?”</p><p>Maze kept her gaze as she let out a huff of amusement.</p><p>“Not exactly.”</p><p>A strange, foreboding sort of heat suddenly crawled over Chloe’s skin.</p><p>“The devil?”</p><p>Maze smirked but didn’t explicitly confirm it. She merely took a step forward and picked up a strand of loose hair, curling it casually around her finger.</p><p>“Oh, he’ll have fun with you,” she hummed absently, cryptically, “he does so love pretty and unusual things… and you, cupcake… are pretty unusual indeed.”<br/>
<br/>
</p>
<hr/><p><br/>
Lucifer stared dispassionately at the pathetic human weeping at his feet.</p><p>“Please, my king!” the man wailed, a wild look of distress in his eyes, “don’t ever forget me again. I promise I’ll be good!”</p><p>Lucifer felt, more than heard, Maze’s chuckle next to him. There was nothing his favourite demon loved more than finding a human’s breaking point, that delicious moment at the ebb tide where they finally cracked and hurtled over the edge.</p><p>This one was depressingly easy.</p><p>After decades of torture—burning, freezing, starving, stabbing—all Lucifer had to do to him… was stop.</p><p>He had simply walked away and left him like the mild inconvenience he was. When he’d returned, the wretch was a snivelling mess, so dependent on his king’s punishment, that he begged him to never leave again.</p><p>Maze loved it. Lucifer didn’t.</p><p>“<em>Enough</em>,” he hissed eventually. The incessant blubbering was starting to set his teeth on edge.</p><p>The man’s jaw clamped shut immediately, his tears glittering silver tracks on his flushed cheeks.</p><p>Lucifer rolled his shoulders and sat back in his throne. He waved a hand as he did so, gesturing for two stoic demons on the other side of the room to take the man away. They did, each one hooking an arm under him and dragging him away.</p><p>There were now only a handful of demons in the hall, all standing in line and waiting patiently for orders.</p><p>He felt the heat of two familiar, curious eyes on him.</p><p>“Something to say, Maze?”</p><p>She shrugged.</p><p>“That one hadn’t cracked in <em>decades</em>. I did <em>everything</em> to him. Every torture I could possibly devise. I’m talking <em>real </em>pain. You finally found his breaking point—and it’s like you don’t even care.”</p><p>“He’s hardly the first self-deprecating masochist I’ve come across,” he replied dryly, “nor will he be the last.”</p><p>Maze folded her arms over her chest.</p><p>“Well, <em>I</em> feel bad for him,” she sniffed, causing him to arch a brow, “poor, snivelling little thing. I should go comfort him.”</p><p>Lucifer stared at her, unimpressed.</p><p>“And how exactly do you intend to do that?”</p><p>“Why do you ask?” she smirked, her eyes sparkling, “you jealous?”</p><p>His expression was calm and even.</p><p>“Sadly, no,” he said, dragging his gaze away, “what I <em>am</em>, my darling… is bored.”</p><p>She paused, her grin faltering.</p><p>“Bored?”</p><p>“I’ve seen it all, you see. So many punishments, so many forms of torture. It’s all the same to me. The fear, the pain, even the sick, twisted sort of pleasure. The <em>noise</em> of it all, Maze. From the lonely spinster eaten by her cats to the runway model force fed carbs… in the end, it’s all so disappointing.”</p><p>The demon blinked, utterly confused.</p><p>“But <em>how</em> could you be bored? They’re all so different!”</p><p>“Are they, now?” he fired back, “the particulars may differ, but I’ve never met a human who wasn’t utterly predictable. They all crave—<em>desire—</em>to be wanted, to be relevant and to be loved. They all want their pathetic existences to have <em>meaning</em>. They don’t.”</p><p>Maze blinked again.</p><p>“Well, aren’t you a barrel of laughs today?” she drawled.</p><p>He grumbled, conceding that he <em>wasn’t</em> quite his normal charismatic, magnetic self. His fingers itched for a drink. <em>That </em>was something he would give the humans; their alcohol was far superior. For now, he had to make do with a cup of brimstone wine, which he retrieved from the cabinet near his throne.</p><p>As he poured from the crystal tumbler, watching the rich, dark liquid swirl into the glass, the air suddenly crackled and bristled. It grew tense, made his demons snarl and bare their teeth.</p><p>Someone was here, someone who didn’t belong.</p><p>He closed his eyes, his top lip curling in irritation when he realised what the presence was.</p><p>It was goodness and light, the kind of purity that came from heaven itself. An angel had breached the gates. Each of his siblings had a very unique, heady aura and he recognised this one immediately—the pious and insufferably boring <em>Amenadiel. </em>He braced himself against his brother’s light as it shimmied over his skin, fighting to penetrate, to find a way in.</p><p>“Brother!” he called out before turning around, feeling his presence at the door, “to what do I owe the pleasure?”</p><p>His demons were still growling, the atmosphere tense and thin, but Lucifer faced him unaffected.</p><p>It must have been centuries, but he looked just as he remembered. From that ridiculous metallic grey dress—<em>robe</em>—he wore, to the even more ridiculous look of contrition on his face. He had never met a being, celestial or otherwise, who engaged in self-flagellation quite like Amenadiel. It was practically a sport.</p><p>“This isn’t a social call, Luci.”</p><p>Lucifer rolled his eyes, at both his words and the nickname. It might have affected him once—back when the sting from the fall was still fresh, back when he <em>missed</em> him and longed for his support—but that was a long time ago, and he had felt nothing since.</p><p>He thought of his banishment and the subsequent solitude, how none of them had taken the time to visit him—not even little Azrael, who he had once been so close to. Even <em>she</em> had forgotten him. Bitterness settled like a heavy stone in his chest.</p><p>“Well then,” he murmured, irritated by the resurgence of old, nauseating feelings, “get on with it.”</p><p>He did.</p><p>“I have come to collect a soul,” he said, “one that belongs in heaven, but is instead in hell.”</p><p>Lucifer arched a brow, lifting his cup to his mouth. He had never heard of such a thing. He took a sip of wine, grateful for the burn as it scorched its way down his throat.</p><p>“There are no such mistakes,” he insisted, “if a soul has found its way to me, it <em>belongs</em> with me. <em>To </em>me.”</p><p>“It’s not easy to understand something that’s never been before,” Amenadiel insisted haughtily, “but it’s true nonetheless. I have it on Father’s authority. This human was good. She must be given to me. I must take her home to heaven.”</p><p>Lucifer paused, his interest suddenly piqued.</p><p>“<em>She?</em>” he repeated slowly, “the plot thickens, brother! Are you sure you don’t just want a little girlfriend to take home to daddy?”</p><p>Amenadiel smiled wryly.</p><p>“Not quite.”</p><p>There was something <em>more</em> behind his voice, an edge that Lucifer didn’t like.</p><p>“Out with it, Amenadiel.”</p><p>“You won’t like it.”</p><p>Lucifer laughed, taking another sip of wine. He poured a glass for him and held it out, rolling his eyes again when the angel shook his head with his jaw set tight. He passed the glass to Maze instead.</p><p>“I don’t doubt it.”</p><p>Amenadiel shifted on his feet, taking a breath before he just let it all out.</p><p>“Father made her for <em>you</em>—a gift, if you will. It appears that she died before she could be put in your path. So now she’s here, in hell, even though she doesn’t deserve to be.”</p><p>Lucifer stiffened as the words sunk in. Quiet rage quickly simmered inside him, licking like hot flames at his heels. His Father had banished him eons ago, tossed him aside to rule over a hell he never asked for, and he was <em>still</em> playing with him. He took another sip of wine, the fiery liquid sliding down his throat and doing nothing to soothe his temper.</p><p>“Out,” he hissed then, low and dangerous, “everyone out!”</p><p>It went without saying that his brother and Maze would be exempt from the order. All the other demons, however, shivered and followed his command, scattering like marbles to various parts of hell.</p><p>“Let me be clear,” he started when they were gone, his voice low and cold, “I am not a puppet for Father’s amusement, nor will I dance to his tune. Not anymore. Now get out.”</p><p>“I’m not leaving without her. I started this by blessing her parents all those years ago so they could have her. Now I need to finish it.”</p><p>Lucifer scoffed, delighted at this new piece of information.</p><p>“You really are just a pawn, aren’t you? You exist only to serve him and even <em>then</em>, he doesn’t give a shit about you.”</p><p>A muscle in Amenadiel’s jaw jumped and he knew he had touched a nerve. Unmistakable pain flashed through his dark eyes and Lucifer <em>revelled</em> in it.</p><p>“You <em>won’t</em> get into my head, Luci,” Amenadiel scowled, “give her to me—<em>now</em>.”</p><p>Lucifer hadn’t heard such malice in his brother’s perpetually soft voice in centuries. He’d had his curiosity before, just the spark of something new. It had been a flame that could easily be smothered, but <em>now</em>… now he had his full attention.</p><p>“This is quite the reaction, brother,” Lucifer purred before his voice turned sarcastic, “you mean to tell me Father sent his <em>most favourite son </em>into the bowels of hell to fight over one tiny human?”</p><p>“Chloe Decker is not just <em>one tiny human</em>.”</p><p>The name meant nothing to him—but it must have meant something to Maze because her eyes flickered with recognition.</p><p>“You know this name?” he asked her.</p><p>She shrugged, toying the glass between her fingers.</p><p>“She arrived yesterday.”</p><p>“And?” Lucifer arched a brow impatiently.</p><p>“<em>And</em> she’s pretty,” she shrugged again, making Lucifer roll his eyes, because he was surrounded by beauty and it was hardly relevant, “she did seem kind of different. She wasn’t stuck in a hell loop, she was just kind of... <em>there</em>. And sure, she was confused, but she didn’t scream or cry or beg. She just kind of took it all in her stride.”</p><p>Lucifer listened, his eyes narrowing in interest.</p><p>Meanwhile, Amenadiel was losing his grip on that famous, iron clad control.</p><p>“There <em>is</em> no hell loop for her, because she shouldn’t be here!”</p><p>Lucifer put his cup down, moving over to his brother. He clasped a hand on his shoulder, making sure he was at eye-level with him, making sure he <em>understood</em>.</p><p>“Your little human intrigues me.”</p><p>Amenadiel sighed, a look of grief flickering over his features.</p><p>“Please, Luci. This doesn’t need to be hard.”</p><p>Lucifer’s grin turned salacious, his eyes flashing with implication.</p><p>“Easy for you to say, brother. You know the effect I have on women... and men... and everyone really.”</p><p>Amenadiel’s expression hardened, his nostrils flaring.</p><p>“You will not touch her,” he growled.</p><p>“But she’ll so enjoy it,” Lucifer taunted.</p><p>“Lucifer—”</p><p>His patience shattered, like an elastic band that had been pulled too tight before it snapped.</p><p>“I will <em>do</em> whatever I wish,” he snarled as he summoned hellfire through his eyes, red flashing across his irises, “because down here, I am <em>k</em><em>ing </em>and you… you are <em>nothing</em>.”</p><p>Amenadiel tried and failed to keep his expression unaffected.</p><p>“I’ve <em>told</em> you Father has his eye on her, that he has a plan for her, and you still seek to exploit and taint and take advantage of her? Perhaps you really have fallen lower than I could imagine.”</p><p>Lucifer was unbothered, his expression steady and calm as his eyes returned to their normal dark brown.</p><p>“I’ve told you before, brother, I do not <em>exploit </em>the humans or <em>plant</em> desires in their minds. I merely bring out what is already there. I expose what is hidden. I release them from their own repression, or their guilt, or their society’s arbitrary rules. I will do nothing to your <em>Chloe Decker </em>that she doesn’t already want and desire… and if she really is as good and <em>heavenly </em>as you insist… well, you have nothing to worry about, do you?”</p><p>“You have no interest in humans, you’ve told me many times,” Amenadiel tried, “they’re nothing to you. <em>She </em>is nothing to you. Why do you suddenly care?”</p><p>“Because Father does,” Lucifer blinked before turning to Maze and dryly adding, “was that not obvious?”</p><p>Maze cackled, flipping one of her blades over in her hands. The red and orange hues of candlelight bounced off the steel.</p><p>Amenadiel opened his mouth to protest once more but Lucifer found himself growing tired of this conversation. He had things to do, humans to torture, and apparently, a secret gift made just for him to unwrap.</p><p>“Thank you for your visit, brother,” he said cheerfully, clasping Amenadiel on the shoulder again, “it has been most interesting.”</p><p>“Luci…”</p><p>“You can see yourself out.”</p><p>He turned his back on his brother, just as <em>he</em> had done to him all those years ago. He was deaf to his pleas. He was deaf to the sigh of defeat he released and the crack of his wings as they unfurled and hit the atmosphere. With one more rush of air, he was gone and Lucifer knew one thing for certain…</p><p>He certainly wasn’t bored anymore.<br/>
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<hr/><p><br/>
Chloe Decker <em>was</em> bored<em>.</em></p><p>She’d never given hell and what it would be like much thought. Partly because she never thought she’d end up here, but mostly because she’d never been the religious type. If she were talking stereotypes, she’d imagine fire and brimstone, ash and smoke so thick that it chokes you, devil horns and ominous red and black.</p><p>Instead, she had been tossed in an empty room, one that she could shift and change just by willing it. She closed her eyes and imagined her home, warm and light, and just like that, she opened them and <em>there she was.</em></p><p>She didn’t belong in hell and <em>this</em>… this didn’t <em>seem</em> like hell.</p><p>Until the devil himself walked in.</p><p>Chloe felt him before she saw him.</p><p>Her throat was too dry as she swallowed, her hands curling around the edge of the kitchen counter that wasn’t really there. This kitchen, the apartment that was all too easy to acquire in the wake of <em>Hot Tub High School</em> but harder to keep on a cop’s salary, the candles, the leaking tap that needed fixing, the fancy china her Mom bought her last Christmas....  they were all figments of her imagination. Her memory.</p><p>But this feeling… <em>this</em> was real.</p><p>It slithered over her skin, like darkness and light at the same time. It was a heat that caused the hairs on the back of her arms and neck to stand on end, something heady and intoxicating. She slowly turned around, her back against the counter, and let her eyes drift over what was probably the most beautiful man she had ever seen.</p><p>He was casually adjusting his cuffs as he looked at her, his brow slightly arched.</p><p>She watched him watch her, his dark eyes taking her in, his gaze entirely unapologetic as he scrutinised her.</p><p>She tried not to shrink under its intensity, straightening her back and setting her jaw.</p><p>His lips twitched in almost imperceptible amusement.</p><p>“Miss Decker, I assume?” he purred, his voice like silk, “I’ve heard a lot about you.”</p><p>She lifted her chin, forcing herself to keep his gaze, even as it burned so strongly, she was desperate to look away.</p><p>“Who are you?”</p><p>There was that easy tip of his mouth again as he took another step towards her. He was so close now, she could smell him, all smoke and fire and something heady and masculine. She felt the pull of his presence, magnetic and strong, a heat that started in her chest and slithered into the pit of her belly.</p><p>“Lucifer,” he purred and then held out his hand, “Morningstar. A pleasure.”</p><p>She swallowed, trying to keep her hand from shaking as she placed it in his. A sharp jolt travelled through her the moment they touched, making her want to draw back in fright. From the almost imperceptible way a muscle in his jaw jumped, she thought he might have felt it too. His hand was preternaturally warm in hers, the metal of the ring he wore lightly digging into her skin. She expected him to shake it. Instead, he brought it to his mouth and placed a kiss there.</p><p>When he gave her hand back, there was a tingling sensation where his lips had been.</p><p>Normally, she would have found the gesture creepy and outdated. She stubbornly told herself she still did, but that heat that had slithered lower still, blossoming into an ache between her thighs, spoke otherwise.</p><p>“Lucifer…” she repeated slowly, “like, um…”</p><p>“Like the devil? Someone’s been doing their homework.”</p><p>He was teasing her, mischief dancing behind his eyes, but she didn’t want to play.</p><p>“Not really,” she replied wryly, crossing her arms over her chest, “never been the religious type.”</p><p>“Yet here you are,” he fired back, “I understand it’s overwhelming.”</p><p>“I’m not overwhelmed,” she shrugged easily<em>, </em>“what’s the point? The only thing I can control is myself, and what I do in this moment.”</p><p>His brow cocked, a look of interest flashing over his handsome features.</p><p>“No the <em>d</em><em>evil made me do it?</em>” he questioned sarcastically, “or <em>God, </em>even?”</p><p>“God’s all about free will, right? And besides, if God, or <em>you</em>, put me here then you might be all powerful but you’re certainly not all knowing—because I don’t belong here.”</p><p>He regarded her calmly, a little hum rolling from his chest.</p><p>“So I’ve been told,” he tipped his head to the side in amusement and then glanced around the room, “and <em>this… </em>well it’s no Ritz darling, but it’s definitely not a hell loop.”</p><p>She wracked her brain for what the demon had said before—<em>you decide your own hell loop, it’s tailored for each and every one of you.</em></p><p>“The woman who came here before—”</p><p>“—demon,” he corrected, “you’ll get used to Mazikeen. She’s a little protective… right hand demons, you know how they can be.”</p><p>Chloe blinked at the absurdity of it all.</p><p>“<em>Mazikeen</em> said we make our own hells, that we’re brought here by guilt. There’s nothing I feel guilty about. I closed my eyes and I’m… well, not home, obviously… but this is just my apartment.”</p><p>He was still watching her, like she was a puzzle he wanted to work out.</p><p>He took a step forward, into her personal space. She swallowed, her eyes dropping to his mouth. It was a pretty mouth, his lips full and soft, and his eyes were almost black as he searched her face for a reaction. Up close, she could see how perfect his features were, the elegant slope of his nose, his high cheekbones, the dark smattering of stubble lining his sharp, masculine jaw. But his eyes kept her attention the most. They hinted at dark intent, the kind of eyes that could ruin you, hypnotic and seductive. He held himself with a devil may care—<em>pardon the pun</em>—attitude that bordered on dangerous, a confidence that belied the fact he knew <em>exactly</em> what effect he had.</p><p>“I know, I know, I’m very handsome,” he purred, a smirk pulling at his lips, “and you’re only human. You <em>do </em>seem different though—but while this is no fire and eternal torment, I can’t imagine you want to be stuck in a carbon copy of your mediocre apartment forever. So tell me, darling… what is it you truly desire?”</p><p>He leaned in, his hands gently coming to rest on the counter either side of her. He was caging her in, surrounding her with heat, and that strange ache between her legs intensified. Her pulse pounded between her thighs, a dull ache that needed soothing. She swallowed, constructing her walls high above her. She felt that pull again, the vibrations and pulses of his energy, fighting for a way in. She remained resolute, unyielding.</p><p>She got the feeling Lucifer Morningstar smelled weakness like blood in the water.</p><p>“What I desire…” she leaned in, watching his brow arch in interest, “…is for you to learn the concept of personal space.”</p><p>She placed a hand on his chest and pushed him back, trying not to dwell on how solid the muscle felt beneath the fabric of his perfectly tailored suit. He allowed himself to be moved, a flicker of surprise passing over his expression before it turned smooth again.</p><p>“Fascinating,” he breathed as he studied her from head to toe.</p><p>“What is?”</p><p>He shook his head and took a step back.</p><p>“Must be going,” he slipped that smooth mask back on, “demons to see, humans to torture…”</p><p>“Wait, don’t—” she sighed, “—you <em>said</em> I was different, you know I don’t belong here. You have to help me.”</p><p>His mouth twitched but it wasn’t quite the same seductive smirk.</p><p>This one was a little guarded, not quite reaching his eyes, and he adjusted his cuffs once more before he was gone.<br/>
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<hr/><p><br/>
“So it’s true then,” Lucifer muttered, his voice deathly quiet as his fingers tightened around his cup.</p><p>“Yeah, the bitch cracked,” Maze rolled her shoulders, wincing as she popped a bone back in before she muttered, “eventually.”</p><p>Lucifer’s mouth twisted wryly. Maze was his best demon, the most ruthless of them all, but his mother was the <em>goddess of all creation.</em>  She was bound to get a few good shots in.</p><p>“I still don’t know why you couldn’t have asked her yourself,” she hissed as she swiped the silk pocket square from his suit and used it to wipe some blood from her split lip.</p><p>Lucifer laughed but it was a bitter sound.</p><p>“Because I would rather trap myself in one of those <em>Chuck-E-Cheese </em>hell loops, surrounded by human offspring, than ever speak to her again.”</p><p>“I thought <em>I </em>was the one with <em>Mommy </em>issues,” she rolled her eyes before slumping into the leather seat on the other side of his desk.</p><p>“Just tell me what exactly she said, Mazikeen,” he bit out, his patience wearing thin, “who is this <em>Chloe Decker</em>?”</p><p>“She just reiterated what Amenadiel said. That the girl was made for you, a gift, she’s special, <em>blah blah blah, </em>then she begged me to ask you to visit her—”</p><p>Lucifer waved a dismissive hand, beckoning for her to stop talking. Pure rage fought to replace the mild irritation in his veins. He had no interest in patching things up with his mother, <em>the traitor</em>, and he would <em>not</em> be visiting her any time soon.</p><p>He walked around the desk, his finger trailing casually along the sharp edge. He blocked all those other nasty feelings out—the pain, the betrayal, even the pesky longing he couldn’t quite shake off—and focused on Miss Chloe Decker.</p><p>“Interesting,” he hummed, more to himself than to Maze.</p><p>The demon’s expression twisted, her mouth pinching like she had sucked on a lemon. She crossed her arms over her chest, her lips forming a pout.</p><p>“Who cares if <em>he</em> made her?” she said petulantly, “he made <em>all</em> of them. She’s not special. She’s just some stupid human.”</p><p>Lucifer smirked, coming to stand in-front of her. She was eyeline with his belt, his hip resting against the desk as his dark eyes swept over her curiously.</p><p>“<em>Just</em> <em>some stupid human</em> who’s immune to my power,” he corrected, because that<em> was</em> special and he hadn’t quite been able to stop thinking about it.</p><p>Maze scoffed, crossing one leg over the other and refusing to look at him.</p><p>“Either way, she’s not one of us.”</p><p>He scoffed lightly, one hand coming up to graze her cheek. He had called the humans predictable, but it appeared his demons were too. They all fell into him, like snakes who danced towards their charmer, pulled into his gravity.</p><p>They were all easy to read, easy to control.</p><p>
  <em>All except her…</em>
</p><p>“Mazie…” he crooned, gently cupping her face. His thumb drifted over her bottom lip, feeling them part under his touch, “now who’s jealous?”<br/>
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<hr/><p><br/>
“What about Hitler?”</p><p>Lucifer sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. They had been steadily going through hell’s inhabitants, from the more obvious <em>Stalin’s</em> and<em> Vlad the Impaler’s,</em> to the less obvious like Jim Morrison and Gary Coleman, and she seemed to have gotten herself stuck in a Nazi Germany stage.</p><p>“Yes, <em>obviously </em>he’s here.”</p><p>Chloe sat back, her fingers drumming on the surface of the desk.</p><p>“Yeah but, like, is there a whole dictator <em>wing?</em> Or is it like solitary confinement where they can really think about what they’ve done?”</p><p>Lucifer scoffed, the sound slightly hidden behind his cup as he took a sip of wine.</p><p>“It’s not detention, Miss Decker,” he said dryly, “they don’t just get a slap on the wrist for being a naughty boy.”</p><p>“What <em>do</em> they get?”</p><p>His expression seemed to darken, that playful glitter in his eyes dimming. This was his <em>job</em>, or so he told her. It was his duty, something he was forced to do, and being good at it didn’t necessarily mean he enjoyed it. <em>Sympathy for the devil</em>, she thought wryly, but that was what she felt. Already, she could see the good in him, all the parts of himself he hid away. She saw him in a way no-one else did, all those depths, the feelings he pretended he didn’t have. He didn’t have a choice any more than she did.</p><p>It felt like she had known him for years, a preternatural connection, and she was shaken by it. </p><p>“Horrors I don’t think it necessary for you to visualise,” he said, his tone clipped, “your little trips are quite pleasant, after-all.”</p><p>“Yeah, that is still kind of wild,” she said in what was the biggest understatement of the century—or <em>any</em> century, “how I can imagine myself pretty much anywhere. They seem to be mostly memories, places I’ve already been that are familiar or comfortable to me. I miss my friends and my Mom, and I know when I imagine them, it’s not the same, but it’s better than nothing. And better than that whole <em>eternal torment thing</em>.”</p><p>He chuckled, his mouth quirking in silent agreement.</p><p>“I do have one more question about your tenants though.”</p><p>“Oh bloody hell,” he moaned, “who is it now? Hendrix? Cobain? Elvis? Because the king’s not dead actually, and it’s a funny story—”</p><p>“My uncle Steve,” she interrupted, her voice very solemn, before she added, “<em>total</em> asshole.”</p><p>He blinked once, twice, before he let out a husky, <em>genuine </em>laugh.</p><p>They didn't know each other that well yet... but Chloe thought it was the best sound she’d heard since she arrived.<br/>
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Chloe closed her eyes.</p><p>She felt the cool ocean breeze on her face. Coupled with the soft spray of the sea, the comforting feeling swept over her skin like a blanket. As she leaned back on her hands, she felt coarse sand slip through her fingers, and when she finally opened her eyes, she saw the waves crawling gently to the shore.  </p><p>Once again, she felt him before she saw him.</p><p>“Where are we today, Detective?”</p><p>He was suddenly sitting next to her, seemingly uncaring about the sand dusting over his expensive suit.</p><p><em>Light grey</em> this time, she noticed absently, and then <em>hated</em> how she noticed.</p><p>She huffed, closing her eyes again.</p><p>“I <em>really </em>wish I hadn’t told you that,” she sighed, referencing her lost dream, “I guess you’ll never use my name again.”</p><p>“Endearing, isn’t it?”</p><p>“Not quite the word I was going to use,” she huffed, “I was just a cop. I was just starting out. I wouldn’t have become a detective for years.”</p><p>Her eyes were still closed, her imaginary sun setting and bathing her in warm heat, but she could practically <em>see </em>his grin.</p><p>They had become quite accustomed to each other now, with him walking into her various scenarios, eager to drink in why she was there. His nose had scrunched in distaste at the gym, insisting <em>stale human sweat </em>was a stench far more disgusting than anything hell could conjure up.  He had been horrified when he’d found her in the memory of the day she met a friend’s baby, sniffing that he’d never understood the human desire to procreate. <em>Terrible, taxing burdens,</em> he’d called them.  </p><p>On one particularly lonely night, she had projected herself into a sex memory—just some ex that had never worked out, but was good for a while—and he had been utterly <em>delighted</em> when he’d caught her there. He’d grinned that easy grin and innocently asked if she’d experimented with girls in college.</p><p>She’d found herself on the set of <em>Hot Tub High School</em> just once, stumbled into the memory by accident. His eyes had sparked with an interest he quickly smothered when she very seriously barked for him to shut up. Sometimes, he listened to her. He watched her. She doubted even <em>he</em> knew how much.</p><p>Nothing had interested him more than the day he found her in the precinct, her fingers trailing nostalgically over the files on her desk, the cases she would never solve.</p><p>He seemed to want to know more about her, what made her tick, what made her move, and she found herself quite enthralled too.</p><p>Not that she would ever admit it.</p><p>Lucifer Morningstar was <em>infuriating. </em>Insufferable, really. With his stupid, inexplicably British accent and his expensive, tailored suits and his even more stupid, lopsided grin. He was also the <em>d</em><em>evil, </em>may she add, and he walked and talked and charmed like one too.</p><p>Seduction oozed from his every pore. No matter where she was, if he turned up, everyone’s heads turned too. He was just the sort of man people listened to, the sort of man they wanted to be around, and he commanded the energy of any room he walked into. It all pulsed towards him.</p><p>Chloe did not like him. She did <em>not</em><em>. </em>She was merely… intrigued. It wasn’t every day you found yourself in hell, after-all—especially a hell where you were apparently the only human who wasn’t affected. It wasn’t every day you found a connection with the literal <em>devil</em>, something unexpected and confusing but undeniably real.  </p><p>She opened her eyes again and turned to see him watching her.</p><p>It made her chest tighten, the way he looked at her, this mixture of curiosity and almost reverence.</p><p>No-one had ever looked at her that way.</p><p>“I used to come here after my dad died,” she said softly, turning away again to watch the waves crashing against the shore, “he was shot on duty.”</p><p>“He’s the reason you became a cop,” he said; it wasn’t a question.</p><p>She nodded.</p><p>“That movie set you found me on before…” she started, swallowing past the lump in her throat, “…I used to be an actress like my mom. I only did the one film and it wasn’t very good. The main thing people remember from it is me taking my top off. Wasn’t <em>exactly</em> doing much to improve society.”</p><p>“Oh, I wouldn’t say that,” he quipped, the corner of his mouth quirking.</p><p>She rolled her eyes but a smile pulled at her mouth too.</p><p>“I don’t know, I guess my dad’s death just… put things into perspective. I wanted to help people. I wanted to leave the world a little better than I found it. And then I died. I had even found some information about this young girl's murder, I was following up on it <em>when</em> I died.”</p><p>Her tone turned blunt, dry, but for once, he wasn’t smiling.</p><p>“Still, I imagine you touched many lives,” he said evenly, “you were right. You don’t belong here. You have a light inside you, Miss Decker. I call you Detective because deep down, at your core, that’s who you are. I can see that.”</p><p>She swallowed, her chest too tight.</p><p>“Really?”</p><p>“I’m the devil, darling,” he said, “I see everything—and I don’t lie.”</p><p>She still struggled with the concept.</p><p>Her eyes narrowed into a squint against the setting sun as it painted the sky deep red.</p><p>“<em>The Prince of Darkness, the Prince of Lies…</em> doesn’t lie?”</p><p>His mouth pulled into a slow smirk.</p><p>“You <em>have </em>been doing your homework,” he purred, delighted.</p><p>She shrugged.</p><p>“I may have closed my eyes and imagined a library once or twice,” she conceded, remembering those dusty books, the terrifying pictures and depictions both recent and centuries old, “isn’t the devil meant to be pure evil? Like, the very opposite of good?”</p><p>He scoffed lightly.</p><p>“You’ll have to adjust your notions of <em>good</em> and <em>bad</em> now you know of the divine, Miss Decker. Things are rarely that simple.”</p><p>She swallowed, a strange ache in the pit of her stomach.</p><p>As she watched him gaze out across the sea, beautiful and half bathed in sunlight, she realised he <em>had</em> turned her black and white world to a complicated shade of grey.<br/>
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<hr/><p><br/>
“The other demons talk, you know,” Maze sneered, her fingers toying along the edge of a blade, “about your little pet.”</p><p>“Let them talk,” he said dryly, “why should I care?”</p><p>“They think you’ve gone soft.”</p><p>He scoffed, taking a sip of wine. He watched the flames in the fireplace across the room dance and flicker. He listened to the crackling sounds, smelled the smoke, the heat kissing his skin.</p><p>“Truthfully, my dear, I couldn’t care less what they think. They’re <em>demons</em>. They don't mean a thing to me.”</p><p>He didn’t miss the slight flicker of hurt that passed over her face.</p><p>“But that… that <em>Barbie </em>does?”</p><p>Lucifer turned to face her, his brow arching at the bitterness lacing her tone.</p><p>“Careful Maze,” he said lowly, “remember who you’re talking to. Your jealousy may have been amusing before, but don’t let it cloud your judgement.”</p><p>She stood from the chair she was sitting in, flipping the blade over one finger. His eyes dragged slowly down to watch the gesture. He knew what it meant.  </p><p>She was angry.</p><p>“Please,” she rolled her eyes, “you’re not so scary. You haven’t tortured anyone in months. All you do is moon over <em>her, </em>like some pathetic <em>human.</em>”</p><p>His top lip curled into a snarl.</p><p>“Don’t <em>push</em> me.”</p><p>“Or what?” she seethed, leaning into him before she flipped her blade again, “just let me have a crack, Lucifer. I’ll carve that <em>light</em> right out of her.”</p><p>His anger spiked, a fury he hadn’t felt in eons rising inside him. He threw his cup into the fireplace, causing glass and red and orange flames to roar and leap outwards. Maze tried to stand tall but her eyelids flickered and an obvious shudder traced down her spine.</p><p>The hand that had been holding the glass now wrapped around her neck.</p><p>“You will not touch her,” he growled, red flashing across his irises.</p><p>To her credit—or stupidity—she laughed.</p><p>It was a demonic sort of sound, choked by the tight grip around her neck.</p><p>“And why should I listen?”</p><p>Hellfire blazed through his eyes again, flaring a furious crimson.</p><p>“Because I am your <em>k</em><em>ing</em> and I command it.”</p><p>His voice was dangerous, an inhuman snarl, and he let her go with a shove.</p><p>She staggered backwards and he watched her fingers twitch stubbornly with the desire to rub her neck.</p><p>“No torture,” he ordered, quieter then, “tell the others... <em>none</em> of you are to touch her.”</p><p>Maze stared at him, her eyes glassy now, the anger replaced by hurt and betrayal.</p><p>“Very well,” she whispered bitterly, “my <em>ki</em><em>ng</em>.”<br/>
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</p>
<hr/><p><br/>
“I thought you never lied,” Chloe hissed one day, “Maze <em>told</em> me. She told me about that angel.”</p><p>Lucifer cocked a brow, waiting for her to continue. He made a mental note to scold Mazikeen for her disrespect. For eons, she had been his favourite, his right hand woman and occasional lover and even friend. Perhaps it had made her cocky, made her forget her place. He had ordered her not to torture Chloe and perhaps there had been no hell-forged blades involved, but this was torture nonetheless.</p><p>But deep—<em>deep—</em>down, he knew it wasn’t all her fault. He knew he was being unfair, that <em>he</em> was the one keeping Chloe in the dark.</p><p>Deep down, in that part of himself he hadn’t felt for millennia, there was a niggling sensation he refused to recognise as guilt.</p><p>“You <em>know </em>I belong in heaven,” she was continuing, “God himself wants me there. You wouldn’t let him take me.”</p><p>He blinked at her before he shrugged, brushing some invisible dirt off his suit.</p><p>“I’m failing to see where I’m supposed to have lied.”</p><p>Chloe narrowed her eyes, her jaw firmly set. He enjoyed it. He’d come to crave that delicious fire in her eyes when she was angry.</p><p>He was utterly, fiercely, <em>depressingly</em> captivated by her.</p><p>The way she laughed, the way she moved, the way she was vulnerable around him but also challenged him… it all rattled him. She was tempting the man who literally created temptation, and he couldn’t understand it. He couldn’t understand this feeling, lodged deep inside his chest. He couldn’t quite get to it.   </p><p>“Leaving things out is the same as lying,” she seethed, “tell me—why are you keeping me here?”</p><p>He faltered because he didn’t <em>know. </em></p><p>“Are you <em>why </em>I’m here?” she asked then, her voice quieter, and he didn’t know how to answer that either. This time it wasn’t because he didn’t know the answer—she was made for him, after-all—but because he didn’t know how to tell her.</p><p>“Did you orchestrate it?” she asked finally, “are you… are you why I’m dead?”</p><p>“No!” he breathed out, offended.</p><p>“Then take me there,” she insisted, lifting her chin stubbornly, “take me to heaven.”</p><p>He huffed humourlessly.</p><p>“Couldn’t if I wanted to, darling. Pesky case of exile, biggest fall in history, you might have heard of it?”</p><p>He watched her jaw clench in defiance.</p><p>“Then call the angel back,” she demanded, “he’ll take me.”</p><p>He took a step forwards, his brow arching in quiet interest. It only intensified when he noticed how her body tensed, the movement of her throat as her darkened eyes dropped to his lips. He wasn’t a fool. He couldn’t use his dad-given powers to read her, but her desires were obvious nonetheless.</p><p>Or <em>this</em> one was, at least.</p><p>“Is that what you really want?” he asked, his voice slightly husky, “you want to leave?”</p><p>She swallowed again.</p><p>“Yes,” she bit out stubbornly.</p><p>He cocked his head to the side, his expression one of faux-surrender, his hands clasped behind his back.</p><p>“Why?” he pushed.</p><p>Her mouth opened and closed before she tried again.</p><p>“I’d be free.”</p><p><em>That </em>made him laugh, an easy scoff rolling from his chest.</p><p>“You think so?” he took a step towards her, “the Silver City’s not all it’s cracked up to be, darling.”</p><p>“Why?” she asked, “why do you even <em>want </em>to keep me here?”</p><p>“To piss my Father off, of course.”</p><p>She blinked, her eyes narrowing, before something <em>more </em>swept over her expression. He couldn’t quite read it, couldn’t decipher it, but it looked calculating.</p><p>She was planning something.</p><p>She was playing him. <em>Him</em>. His temper blazed under his skin again.</p><p>“Is that the only reason?”</p><p>A muscle in his cheek ticked as he clenched the strong line of his jaw.</p><p>“That’s all there is,” he insisted quietly, but the words rang hollow, because now there was <em>her. </em></p><p>Maybe she knew it, read him as well as he couldn’t read her, because then she was closing her eyes. The air shifted and changed around them as she breathed in and with a blink, they found themselves in some sort of restaurant.</p><p>He arched a brow, his eyes flitting over the place. He saw her almost immediately, sitting at a table, half bathed in candlelight and dressed in tight black silk.  It must have been the memory of her, a mirage, because she was also standing right next to him. He saw someone else too, a man, sitting opposite her and holding her hand.</p><p>A muscle in his cheek twitched, this time due to another emotion he hadn’t felt in years. The other her giggled at something the man said and that pesky emotion flared hot in Lucifer’s chest again.</p><p>He was jealous, he realised numbly.<br/>
<br/>
How very depressing.<br/>
<br/>
How very <em>predictable</em>.</p><p>“What is this?” he asked quietly.</p><p>She looked angry and determined and far too smug.</p><p>“His name is Dan,” she said, “he’s a cop, we worked together. This was our second date.. I liked him… a lot. I think we could’ve been something.”</p><p>Lucifer watched the couple, something innocent and new blossoming between them, but the fire scorching through his veins wasn’t innocent at all.</p><p>“Why are you showing me this?” he asked roughly.</p><p>She turned to face him.</p><p>“This was just a week before I died. Our next date would have been our third and… well, I’m sure you know what normally happens on third dates.”</p><p>He did. He thought it an utterly <em>pointless</em> human tradition, an arbitrary barrier to expressing one’s desires.</p><p>“You’re trying to anger me,” he said dully, “to force my hand.”</p><p>She didn’t disagree, but she did add—</p><p>“And to prove <em>pissing your Father off</em> isn’t the only reason you’re keeping me here.”</p><p>Her voice was heavy with implication, burning with the weight of everything left unsaid, this connection between them. She wanted him to admit it, the desire he felt for her, the longing.</p><p>It had been eons since he cared about being accepted, since he yearned to find his place, and this little human was changing <em>everything</em>.  </p><p>Quite rage suddenly boiled beneath the surface, fighting for precedence over the jealousy. He didn’t appreciate being manipulated, not by <em>Hi</em><em>m</em>, not by her. He had always had rebellion in his heart and now it was <em>her </em>light he raged against. He practically growled, grabbing her wrist and pulling her away from the scene. He quickly found a restroom and shoved her inside, locking the door behind him.</p><p>He had her up against the wall before she could blink.</p><p>He heard her breath hitch, felt it in the butterfly stutter of her heartbeat under his palm. His hand was wrapped around her throat, not tight enough to be threatening, but firm enough to emphasise his point. Judging by the way her eyelids flickered, her lips parting, she <em>liked </em>it.  The metal of his ring dug lightly into her skin, the dim lights glinting off Eden’s dark stone.</p><p>“I am <em>not</em> one of those little boys on Earth, fawning over you,” he hissed, his eyes flaring red to emphasise his point, “I’m not <em>Dan. </em>I am the Lord of Hell. I do not care and I do not feel.”</p><p>Her lashes fluttered, her fists curling into either side of the suit at his hips, imperceptibly tugging him closer.  </p><p>“So you <em>do</em> lie,” she whispered heavily, her eyes sparkling, “because you <em>are</em> jealous—and you know it.”</p><p>Lucifer clenched his jaw so tight, it started to ache. His body was stretched taut, emotions he didn’t understand searing through his veins. They <em>hurt. </em>He could hardly believe how much. He wanted to run. His limbs ached with the desperation of it. She wouldn’t let him, the intensity of her eyes keeping him in place.</p><p>Her breathing was short and shallow, her head slowly falling back against the wall. As far as restaurants in hell loops—or in this case, <em>not</em> a hell loop—went, this one was quite nice. It was decorated in soft red and orange hues, the lights low and warm.</p><p>The hand that wasn’t wrapped around her neck was anchored against the wall by her head, his strong body caging her in.</p><p>She was staring at him, her chest heaving, her heart beating wildly under his palm. The air seemed to shift just at the same time as her eyes lit up significantly. He knew that look, heavy and meaningful. He registered the tremble in her lip, the hitch to her breath, the dilation of her pupils.</p><p>She swallowed nervously as her eyes searched his face—and then her hips rolled.</p><p>He didn’t move, frozen to the spot, and before he could wonder if it was accidental, she did it again.</p><p>This time, it was just as hesitant, but definitely purposeful, and her mouth parted.</p><p>She was still staring at him, <em>daring </em>him, waiting for him to make a move.</p><p>He kept one hand on the wall by the side of her head and the other travelled downwards, his fingers closing over her hip. Her bottom lip rolled between her teeth and he sucked in a breath, blazing desire replacing the jealousy in his gut.  Her eyes dropped heavily to his lips, fixed like an anchor, and her brows knitted in concentration.</p><p>Then she rolled her hips again.</p><p>His control snapped. He nudged her legs apart with his foot and slipped his thigh between her own. He pressed the hard muscle up and against her core. The moan that had been building in her throat spilled out, a breathy little gasp. It stoked his desire, shooting straight to his groin. Her hands left his sides, her arms snaking around his neck instead, and she held on tight.</p><p>“That’s it,” he ground out, his voice low and rough, as he pressed his thigh more forcefully against her and watched her eyes go hooded, “that’s it, darling, just like that.”</p><p>She moaned, the sound so pretty it made a groan of his own catch in his throat. Her hips rocked against him, her heat scorching. Somewhere along the way, the dress she was wearing had been hiked up, but even through the lace of her panties and his suit trousers, he could feel how wet she was. It was practically seeping into the expensive fabric, stoking his own desire. She raised herself up on her tiptoes to try and get closer, her mouth falling open in breathy little pants.</p><p>“Lucifer,” she whined low in her throat, her body wracked with tremors as she spread her legs wider and shamelessly ground her clit against his thigh. A thick growl rolled from his chest, his fingers biting at her waist, aiding the thrust of her hips. He could feel his erection pressing uncomfortably against his zipper, making him hiss, harder than he could remember being in years.</p><p>“Look at you,” he purred in the space between their panting mouths, “moaning my name so prettily. I thought you wanted to leave, hmm?”</p><p>She licked her lips, her pupils blown to black, and he burned with the desire to taste her. Her lips, her kiss, her <em>cunt, </em>still grinding hard against his thigh. He buried his face in her hair, his cock aching for release.</p><p>“Oh <em>God,</em>” she panted, rubbing herself more fiercely against him.</p><p>“No,” he growled against her neck, “if you’re going to pray, pray to <em>me.</em>”</p><p>She panted his name again, a sweet surrender.</p><p>“<em>God </em>isn’t going to help you,” he muttered darkly, “<em>h</em><em>e</em> isn’t going to nurture that light inside you. You talk of being free… <em>this </em>is freedom. Freedom to act on your desire, to do as you please, to—<em>fuck</em>, right there, that’s it—let me hear you, Chloe.”</p><p>His hand travelled from her hip to her ass and he hauled her up and tighter against him.</p><p>“Louder,” he grunted, his fingers digging into her ass as he shamelessly rutted against her like one of those humans he said he wasn't, “<em>harder. </em>Let them hear you. Let <em>Dan </em>hear you. Let them hear you cum for me.”</p><p>She gasped sharply, her hips snapping, her body trembling in his arms. He growled thickly as he imagined it was his cock sliding between her thighs, rather than his leg. He imagined the tight, slick heat of her, how good she would feel wrapped around his cock as he brought her to a peak so powerful, she would have to name him <em>k</em><em>ing. </em>He imagined the perfect weight of her tits in his hands, his tongue lashing over a dusty pink nipple. He pictured his mouth moving between her thighs, dropping to her knees, to her altar. He imagined how sweet her cunt would taste, her nectar flowing over his tongue, soaking his beard as she rode his mouth like she was riding his thigh.</p><p>“I want to feel you,” he groaned, his mouth tracing her sharp cheekbone, her skin flushed and burning under his lips, “want to feel that cunt—that hot, <em>dripping</em> wet cunt—want to hear you moan as I fuck you…”</p><p>The words seemed to be just what she needed to tip her over the edge, and with one final cry, she shattered in his arms. His own hips stuttered mournfully in the wake, his cock so hard it was practically painful as he rutted against her. He held her as she fractured, her orgasm rolling over her in sharp waves. Their lips touched, mouths sliding hotly but not quite connecting, as their pants filled the tiny space between them.</p><p>When he released her, he winced and had to adjust himself, his body screaming out for the release it had been denied. He cursed himself for what he already knew he would do—slump into his throne and wank himself blind<em>.</em></p><p>She slumped against the wall, her knees trembling like she couldn’t keep herself upright.</p><p>Normally, he would have preened at the sight. He would have casually tugged at his jacket or adjusted his cuffs or made some sort of cocky quip about his magic hands making her cum without even touching her. All those jibes lodged in his throat, like poison on his tongue. He couldn’t say them. He didn’t feel that way.</p><p>All he felt was hot arousal, quickly doused by cold dread as the gravity of the situation, of how he <em>felt</em> about her, settled over him.  </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Lucifer was avoiding her.</p><p>Time was meaningless here, the hours and days and weeks bled into one, but Chloe was depressingly aware that she hadn’t seen him since she rubbed herself to orgasm on his thigh. Her cheeks blossomed into heat at the memory, wondering what he must be thinking too. That not only had they dry-humped like a couple of horny <em>humans, </em>but a couple of horny, <em>teenaged </em>humans.  </p><p>She shook it off, not wanting to get stuck in that familiar circle of self-hatred and pity. She didn’t want to dwell on her attraction to the <em>literal </em>devil. It seemed pointless. She felt how she felt and she would get nowhere tormenting herself over it.</p><p>She focused instead on the man in the hospital bed in-front of her, the machines he was connected to bleeping hollowly.</p><p>She knew it wasn’t her dad—not really—but it helped. It helped to see him, to feel him, to be able to hold his hand.</p><p>“I’m trying to be strong, daddy,” she whispered, her throat thick with emotion, “like you taught me. I really am. This is just… it’s <em>insane. </em>I’ve cried, I’ve screamed, I’ve wallowed in self-pity. Nothing works. It doesn’t make me feel any better. Maybe it doesn’t matter if I’m in heaven or hell. Nothing changes the fact that I’m <em>dead</em>. And all I can think about is that lead I was following. I’m <em>so</em> sure I know who did it, daddy, who killed those girls. He’ll kill again, and there’s nothing I can do to stop it.”</p><p>For a few moments, the bleep of the life support machine was her only reply. Then she felt Lucifer’s commanding presence, the hairs on the back of her neck standing on end. She turned around and there he was, casually leaning against the doorframe like he’d never left her.</p><p>She turned back and felt him sink down onto the seat next to her.</p><p>He didn’t ask where they were this time, or who the man was. He didn’t talk about the last time they saw each other, or make any attempt to seduce her.</p><p>He just sat quietly, waiting for her to speak, and it was nice. She had come to enjoy the easiness of his presence, that calm energy he seemed to carry with him.</p><p>“How much did you hear?”</p><p>“All of it,” he shrugged, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to eavesdrop.”</p><p>“It’s fine.”</p><p>“Why would you come here?” he asked, his voice silken and low against the clinical buzz of the machines, “this seems rather torturous and we both know you have a sneaky way of avoiding that.”</p><p>“It’s not torture,” she said softly, her eyes drifting over her dad, his face and his hands and the bullet wound he’d never recover from, “sure, it was hard to see him like this, and maybe it <em>is</em> a strange memory to come back to, but it keeps me strong. It reminds me why I chose the path I did.”</p><p>“You still want to help those girls,” he said, his tone laced with surprise, awe, “you’re in hell, literally dead, and <em>that’s</em> what you’re concerned about?”</p><p>She glanced at him, heavy and significant.</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>“Why?”</p><p>“It’s like…” she shifted in her seat, angling her body towards him, “you know when you care about something more than you care about yourself?”</p><p>He blinked blankly.</p><p>“Not really.”</p><p>She rolled her eyes, a frustrated exhale drifting from her lips. She didn’t believe that, thought he was all talk, but she explained anyway.</p><p>“I told you before, I want to help people. The detectives at work, they’re my heroes, they’re everything I aspire to be, but they missed something huge on this case. The guy I was following that day, he was part of this underground club where rich people traded girls like cattle. He’ll do it again. I discovered it by working with this brilliant hacker, but I died before I could tell anyone.”</p><p>He was listening intently, his brows furrowed and his expression heavy.</p><p>“I’ve never met anyone quite like you,” he rasped eventually, almost struggling to understand, “<em>selfless</em> to a nauseating degree. It’s no secret my Father sees me as a monumental disappointment, a <em>monster</em>, but yours…” his eyes flickered to the man in the bed, “…I think he’d be very proud of you.”</p><p>There was a niggling sensation in the back of his mind again, an emotion he refused to recognise as guilt.</p><p><em>If she were in heaven</em>, he thought, <em>her father could tell her that himself. </em></p><p>“Thank you, Lucifer,” she breathed, his name like a warm and familiar welcome home, “and for what it’s worth… I don’t see you that way.”</p><p>He smiled but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.</p><p>“I’m afraid you’ve never seen my monstrous side, Detective.”</p><p>Her mouth twitched, both at the name and the implication.</p><p>“Then show me.”</p><p>He hesitated, a flicker of doubt passing through his eyes. It was a vulnerability she’d never seen him show before and she ached for more.</p><p>“<em>Please</em>.”</p><p>“Very well,” he huffed eventually, giving a little tug on his jacket and constructing his walls high around him in preparation, “you asked for it.”</p><p>He closed his eyes, the darkness sweeping over him. When he turned to her again, it was with the bumps and ridges of his devil face, all raised scar tissue and eyes blazing with hellfire. He prepared himself for the scream, the sharp inhalation of horror, the reactions this form usually invoked.</p><p>Instead, there was silence, and he watched her slowly bring her hand to his face.</p><p>“Chloe, you shouldn’t have to—”</p><p>She interrupted him.</p><p>“I want to.”</p><p>And then she touched him.</p><p>Her fingertips trailed over a jagged edge on his cheek, her eyes light and curious as she examined his face. They travelled down until the pads were drifting over his sharp lips.</p><p>“All I see is an angel,” she whispered.</p><p>His face morphed again, his human features shifting and appearing under her touch. Where she once felt raised, uneven red skin, she now felt the grit of stubble, the sharp line of his jaw.</p><p>He stared at her, blinking in disbelief, like he was seeing her for the first time.</p><p>“Will you stop avoiding me now?” she asked quietly, pointedly, and her throat moved before she released her next confession on a sigh of defeat, “I missed you.”  </p><p>He felt the words in his chest, a sharp ache, and he thought about where she belonged and where she <em>didn’t</em> and of John Decker in the Silver City.</p><p>“Ditto, darling,” he murmured.</p><p>He <em>would </em>miss her, he thought silently, forebodingly, <em>if she were gone.<br/><br/></em></p><hr/><p><br/>Lucifer was trying to clear his mind.</p><p>He paced the halls for what seemed like an eternity, his shoulders tense, every limb like a coiled spring. When that didn’t help, he visited some hell loops, meted out some punishments. When that didn’t work either, he returned to his chambers, knowing there would be no sleep tonight.</p><p>As soon as he entered, he felt a presence.</p><p>Maze was lounging on his bed, naked as the day she was born—or the day she came into existence, fully formed, if he were being accurate.</p><p>“Get dressed,” he commanded, his voice dull, “and get out.”</p><p>Maze was unaffected by his cold tone, as he knew she would be. She stood up and stalked lithely towards him. Her flawless skin shone in the half candlelight, all soft curves hiding strong muscle, a body that certainly gave him a thrill once. It no longer did. Everything he had found fascinating and exciting about her before, he now found… ordinary.</p><p>“Is that any way to greet an old friend?”</p><p>His stony expression didn’t change.</p><p>“I’m not in the mood.”</p><p>He meant for this conversation, but her dark eyes flickered pointedly to his crotch.</p><p>“You rarely are these days.”</p><p>“That’s not what I meant.”</p><p>Her red-painted mouth tipped into a smirk. “I know what you meant.”</p><p>He sighed, moving over to his desk to pull out a packet of cigarettes he’d swiped from the pockets of a recent arrival. He slipped one between his teeth, patting his pockets for his lighter before she presented her own. He leaned in, his brow arching slightly, as the flame engulfed the end. She flicked the lighter shut again, the click penetrating the silence.  </p><p>He took a drag, grateful for the burn as the smoke entered his lungs. He blew it out again, tilting his head slightly to blow it away from her.</p><p>“The others were right,” she muttered, “you have gone <em>soft</em>.”</p><p>His temper flared at the accusation and then her hand was snaking between them to emphasise her point. The height difference had her mouth skimming his tight jaw, soft lips trailing over rough stubble. Her nails raked over his crotch before she cupped him firmly. He sucked in a breath over his teeth, an irritated hiss, and grabbed her wrist none too gently.</p><p>“Stop,” he ordered lowly.</p><p>She obeyed, but there was a tremble to her jaw, her eyes flashing with betrayal. He was the devil, sex personified. He was <em>always </em>in the mood—and he’d never said <em>no</em> to her before.  </p><p>“Why?”</p><p>“I <em>told</em> you,” he snarled, “I’m not in the mood.”</p><p>She stared him down, hard and unyielding.</p><p>“Why else?” she pushed; she wanted him to <em>say it, </em>“there’s something else.”</p><p>“Like what?” he sneered.</p><p>“What,” she started pointedly, “or who?”</p><p>He let her wrist go like she’d burned him.</p><p>“I knew it,” she whispered, “I <em>knew</em> it.”</p><p>He pressed the heel of his palm into his eyes, the cigarette hanging between his fingers.</p><p>“Mazikeen—”</p><p>“No!” she barked, taking a step back, “she’s a filthy <em>human. </em>Your Father <em>made</em> her for you. What you feel isn’t real, he’s just manipulating you.”</p><p>“It doesn’t matter,” he said blankly—because he felt it all the same.</p><p>Maze blinked furiously, probably trying to keep her angry tears at bay.</p><p>“Of course it does,” she hissed heatedly, “she would never <em>choose</em> you. <em>I </em>choose you. I will always protect you. I’m right here… I’ve been with you through everything and you don’t even care.”</p><p>He put his cigarette out in the crystal ashtray, the smoke doing nothing to ease the hollow feeling in his chest.</p><p>“You don’t understand,” he muttered, “you can’t. You don’t have a soul.”</p><p>She drew back like he’d hit her.</p><p>“Don’t,” she hissed, “don’t you dare pretend this was nothing, that I’m just a demon. There was a time, in the early years, when you would have said I was the <em>definition </em>of ecstasy.”</p><p>He stared at her before he laughed, short and a little cruel.</p><p>He <em>had</em> felt things for her, <em>depraved</em> things. It was all sex and control and pain and what he felt for Chloe… it was different.</p><p>“Leave, Mazikeen,” he ordered, his voice curt and clinical, “there is nothing for you here.”</p><p>She scoffed, furiously wiping a tear from her cheek as quickly as it escaped her eye.</p><p>“There is nothing for you either,” she said quietly, “nothing but this. <em>This</em> is who you are. She wouldn’t be here if she had a choice.”</p><p>He watched her go, an ache in his chest, because on <em>that</em>, he knew she was right.<br/><br/></p><hr/><p><br/>Lucifer grimaced as he wiped some blood from his lip, his jaw sliding to the side.</p><p>If he were human, there would be a purple bruise blossoming under the skin come morning. The thought almost made him laugh. He supposed getting caught in the crossfire as two angry, snarling demons went at each other was probably the furthest thing from human as possible.</p><p>Dromos and Squee were currently licking their wounds, both banished to separate corners of hell while he pondered on their punishment.</p><p>He had caught them fighting over which one got to shoot their newest arrival in the face.</p><p>“There’s no need to argue. It’ll happen over and over again for eternity,” Lucifer had said bluntly, shoving the very confused, very dead human into the replica of the hotel room he'd died in, “Dromos, you take the first thousand times, Squee the second.”</p><p>They’d listened, but not before Dromos had tried one more pop at Squee and accidentally collided his fist with Lucifer’s face instead.</p><p>His eyes had widened comically, dropping to his knees as he begged for his king to forgive him.</p><p>“Get up,” Lucifer had hissed, “Squee, consider the first thousand shots yours.”</p><p>Squee had made a sound much like his name, while Dromos pouted miserably. Lucifer had left them there, gunshots and screams echoing behind him, as he went to lick his wounds in his throne room.</p><p>He soon felt Chloe’s presence, her scent, all peaches and Chanel.</p><p>“I’m afraid you’ve caught me at a bad time,” he muttered, his hand rubbing along his jaw again.</p><p>She looked annoyed, her eyes narrowed and her feet anchored to the ground as though she had no intention of leaving.</p><p>He arched a brow, standing in-front of his throne, waiting for her to continue.</p><p>“I saw you with Maze,” she blurted out.</p><p>He waited for a beat before an uncaring hum rolled from his chest.</p><p>“I’m often with Maze,” he said, “you’ll have to be more specific, my dear.”</p><p>Her cheeks flushed, a curious, lovely pink rising to her cheekbones.</p><p>“In your study. She was naked, she was touching your—your…”</p><p>“My cock?”</p><p>His voice was cool and unaffected as Chloe spluttered, her cheeks bursting into heat again.</p><p>“Yes,” she hissed.</p><p>“I assume you didn’t see what happened after?”</p><p>“No, I didn’t stay for the <em>show</em>.”</p><p>He nodded slowly, his hand hovering absentmindedly across one of the arms of his throne. His fingers trailed over the jagged surface, the carvings etched into age old stone.</p><p>“Tell me, Detective…” he started and she decided she <em>hated</em> that name. She hated the reminder of what she would never be. She hated him and the way he made her feel, "why do you care who I’m with?”</p><p>She bristled under the question. He didn't belong to her. He was a king; he didn't belong to anyone. He had made her no promises, just as she had made none to him. She didn't know why she cared, all she knew was she <em>did, </em>and her jealousy was blinding her. </p><p>“<em>I’m</em> the one asking the questions,” she fired back, refusing to bend, “have you slept with her?”</p><p>A muscle in his jaw leapt. It smarted from clenching it so hard, an ache that had nothing to do with the punch he had taken.</p><p>“Yes,” he answered honestly, “many, <em>many</em> times—before.”</p><p>“Before what?”</p><p>“You.”</p><p>She paused, her throat turning dry, and why were her eyes burning? She didn’t know why, couldn’t make sense of it, but the thought of him with Maze—brutal, deadly, <em>beautiful</em> Maze—made her want to scream.</p><p>In that moment, she felt all too human, <em>ordinary. </em> </p><p>Where she was normally so in control, now she was untethered, and she wanted him to feel even a fraction of what she felt. She wanted to break him like he was breaking her.</p><p>“I don’t want to play this game anymore,” she whispered faintly, “I’m tired of being powerless. I’m bored of imagining places that aren’t real and never going anywhere. You keep telling me I’m different, that I’ve been spared hell and pain and none of your demons will touch me, but <em>this</em>… this is worse. <em>You’re </em>torturing me.”</p><p>He stilled, a flicker of something real passing over his face.</p><p>She continued, her chest tight with grief.</p><p>“The way you make me feel… it’s not fair,” her voice was thick with emotion, the floodgates opened, “if you really care this little for me, if you need me to spell it out for you… just let me go.”</p><p>“I can’t.”</p><p>Her anger flared again.</p><p>“You <em>won’t</em>,” she corrected, “I’m not a <em>toy. </em>I’m my own person. I never <em>asked</em> to get stuck in this weird pissing contest between <em>literal </em>angels and devils.”</p><p>For a moment, he didn’t reply, his expression torn and his jaw still clenched tight. It was only when she shook her head, distraught, and moved to walk away, that he closed the gap between them and curled his fingers around her wrist. He tugged her back, pulling her into his body.</p><p>“Do you have any idea what it’s like…” he said lowly, holding her wrist between them, “…to think about you the way I do?”</p><p>He watched the movement of her throat as she swallowed.</p><p>“Tell me.”</p><p>The laugh he let out was uncharacteristically sharp, devoid of his usual seductions or humour.</p><p>“I can’t eat, I can’t sleep. I feel guilt for keeping you here, but it’s not strong enough to outweigh just how much I <em>want</em> you. I want you all the time, every second of every day. So much so that I know it’s probably all a manipulation, just because my Father made you for me, but I simply don’t care.”</p><p>Her brows pulled into a heavy frown, her tired mind struggling to process this new piece of information. That she was <em>made </em>for him, that maybe it was the reason she felt this way. It was all a manipulation. She felt like a doll, dragged and pulled in every direction, totally powerless.</p><p>But maybe it didn’t matter because she <em>did</em> have power here. She saw it in his tortured expression, in the way his fingers tightened around her wrist like a metal cuff. She had power over <em>him</em>. Power to move the devil.</p><p>She felt dizzy with the weight of it all, the conflicting emotions. She wanted to go home. She wanted to stay. She wanted to live. She wanted to go to heaven.</p><p>She wanted him.</p><p>When all was said and done, she realised <em>that </em>was the overriding truth. The religion she clung to. While all else wavered and changed and rot, her loops all smoke and mirrors, <em>he</em> remained.</p><p>Unwavering.</p><p>It made her want to run, to escape. He still hadn’t explicitly told her nothing happened with Maze and he was still so unreadable, so <em>unreachable</em>, and he was still hurting her. He wasn’t going to bend, she realised brokenly. She shook her head and went to leave.</p><p>His grip only tightened around her wrist and he pulled her right back. She bit back a gasp, her hand darting out against his chest to anchor herself. He brought her other wrist up to join it, entwining their fingers against the solid wall of his chest.</p><p>He looked down at her and his eyes were stormy, blown to black.</p><p>“Don’t walk away from me.”</p><p>The low brogue, silken and deep, caused a shudder to trace down her spine. His tone was soft but it was an order nonetheless.</p><p>Something sparked between them, so palpable she could practically <em>taste </em>it, and she couldn’t think.</p><p>She couldn’t <em>breathe</em>.</p><p>She wasn’t sure who moved first.</p><p>All she knew was in the next beat, his mouth was on hers.</p><p>He kissed her deeply, his lips slanting over hers—all tongue, teeth, heat and passion. He swallowed the moan she didn’t mean to make, her breath tight in her chest, as his hands cupped her face and angled her for his kiss.</p><p>He was in control as he held her tighter, one hand trailing down to grip at her waist. The other stayed at her neck, his ring lightly digging into her scalp as his fingers tangled in her loose hair. She opened her mouth when she felt his tongue sweep across her bottom lip, blossoming under his touch. His tongue slid inside her mouth, rough and hot silk, and she groaned and sought it out again when he drew back. She could taste the metallic tang of blood from where his lip split open again and her hands fell to the lapels of his jacket, tugging at the expensive material in an effort to get even closer. She whimpered when he caught her bottom lip between his teeth and gave it a heated tug.</p><p>He always naturally ran hot, a supernatural heat that simmered under her skin, but now, his touch was burning. It licked at her like flames as he broke away from her mouth. She felt, more than heard, the growl he released, a hum that rumbled from his chest under her palm.</p><p>He dragged his mouth to her cheek, her eyes squeezing shut as one of his hands snaked to her behind and hauled her tight against his body.</p><p>She gasped, lost to pleasure, as her hips rocked into his. As his lips skimmed her jaw, trailing hot, open mouthed kisses down to the hollow of her throat, her legs splayed open of her own accord and then she felt it, that same throbbing hardness she felt that day in the “restaurant”. It pressed against the dampening apex of her thighs and she rubbed against it, revelling in the little, choked groan he husked into her neck.</p><p>The grit of his stubble slid over her throat as he kissed his way back to her mouth. She pushed his jacket off his shoulders, letting it flutter to the floor, the first barrier between them ripped away. Jealousy kicked at her stomach like a mule when she suddenly thought of Maze doing the same thing.</p><p>She pictured her undressing him, kissing him, dropping to her knees for him…  and a wild, possessive wave rushed over her.</p><p>She walked him backwards, swallowing his grunt of surprise as the backs of his knees hit his throne. With one hand on his chest, she pushed him down onto it, climbing into his lap before she could lose her nerve. He was the <em>devil</em> and yet the ice to her fire, relaxed where she was tense, his easy expression sultry and dark where she trembled with nerves.</p><p>She held his heated gaze, forcing herself not to look away, as she quickly unbuttoned his waistcoat and shirt and tore it off him. His own hands were working on her dress, toying at the hem before he lifted it over her head. She flushed, a heat that had nothing to do with hell slithering over her skin. His mouth was back at her neck before she knew it, sucking a bloom into the hollow of her throat. His nimble fingers worked at her bra at the same time, easily flicking it open and drawing it down her arms. It joined the rest of their clothes, strewn haphazardly around the throne room.</p><p>She shivered, her nipples pebbling despite the heat. His eyes flashed with desire, one of his hands coming up to cup her breast. He leaned in, his mouth closing over the nipple of the other one. She gasped sharply, her back arching as he growled into her breast. Her fingers tangled in his black curls, anchoring her to him as he tugged her nipple with his teeth. His tongue then flicked over it, soothing it, and pleasure sparked to the tips of her toes.</p><p>A naked Maze suddenly seared behind her vision again and her moan morphed into a possessive snarl.</p><p>She pushed him away, making him lean back in his throne. Her hands went to his chest, feeling the strong muscle flex and twitch under her touch.</p><p>Her nails dug in and made him hiss.</p><p>Her eyes widened, brought back to reality, when she noticed that she’d drawn blood. He grabbed her wrist, his own eyes flashing with surprise.</p><p>He’d told her he was invulnerable, he couldn’t be hurt by anything human, which meant it was only <em>her </em>that could affect him… that she really was special.</p><p>“Who <em>are </em>you?” he breathed, his dark eyes bewildered as they flickered from her face to his chest and back again.</p><p>He touched the blood, only a speck but so momentous, and looked at it like it was something totally foreign to him. Rather than rattle him or distress him, it seemed to <em>arouse</em> him, and he captured her mouth in a heated kiss again.</p><p>She moaned into his mouth and felt her temper flare again.</p><p>“You will not touch her,” she demanded.</p><p>He looked up at her, his eyes dark and his brow arched.</p><p>“No more Maze,” she elaborated, matching his gaze, her blue eyes blazing, “no more demons, no more <em>humans. </em>No more.”</p><p>He shook his head slowly, his hand cupping her face and this thumb rubbing across her bottom lip.</p><p>“No,” he agreed quietly, “only you.”</p><p>Desire flared between her legs at his promise. She rolled her hips, feeling his cock hard and ready under her. It pressed insistently against her aching core, twitching with the need to be inside her.</p><p>She held his gaze heavily, the atmosphere thinning between them as her hands snaked down to unbuckle his belt. He watched, equal parts aroused and curious, as the clink of the metal as it hit the stone floor penetrated the silence. She lifted her hips to aid him push his trousers down his legs and kick them off once they pooled at his ankles. Then she swallowed, her chest unbearably tight, as she slowly shifted her wet underwear to the side.</p><p>His eyes were focused on her cunt, his pupils blown to black, as she took his cock in her hand and positioned it at her dripping entrance. She didn’t need any build up, any foreplay—she’d been wet since he muttered <em>I want you.</em></p><p>She lowered herself onto his cock, revelling in his hiss, the low breath he sucked in over his teeth, as her heat enveloped him. She moaned, feeling full and complete for the first time in <em>the devil knows when.</em></p><p>“That’s it,” he husked, his hands travelling to her hips to guide her up and down his cock, “ride me, darling.”</p><p>She shivered, her cunt clenching tight around his length. It took her a moment to adjust to his size, her nails digging into his broad shoulders. At the back of her mind, she registered how insane this was, surrounded by fire and brimstone, riding the actual devil in his throne. She couldn’t dwell on it, molten heat pooling in her belly as she increased the pace.</p><p>Lucifer cursed, a whine forming low in his throat. His black eyes were focused on where their bodies joined and his control snapped. He growled and in one easy move, ripped her panties away. The fabric floated to the floor in torn shreds as his hands went back to her hips and his hips began to thrust harder, powering from the bottom.</p><p>His name was a choked gasp as she buried her fingers in his curls, tugging so hard it would have been painful, were he human. He didn’t seem to care, letting out an answering groan, his teeth scraping over her neck. She captured his lips again in a messy kiss, spilling her sob of pleasure into him.</p><p>“<em>Mine</em>,” she growled when they broke away, her eyes fluttering when his thumb snaked between her legs to rub circles on her clit.</p><p>“Yours,” he grunted in agreement, “<em>always</em>.”</p><p>Her thighs started to tremble, her eyelids fluttering, and she ground herself down on him. His fingers toyed between her thighs, playing her like an instrument he mastered years ago, the added stimulation driving her unbearably close to the edge.</p><p>“It’s okay,” he rasped, reading her body, “I’ve got you.”</p><p>“<em>Lucifer</em>,” she sobbed, her toes starting to curl as that hot ball of pleasure curled at the base of her spine.</p><p>He hummed, his expression dark and blissed out, and when he begged, she wasn’t <em>Detective </em>or <em>Miss Decker </em>or <em>darling</em>…</p><p>“Come for me, Chloe,” he husked.</p><p>She obeyed slavishly, her body shaking as wave after wave of unbearable pleasure crashed over her. It was so intense, her vision whitened, her wet channel clenching around his length. The added tightness made him hiss, his hips pumping once, twice, three times more before he jerked and pulsed inside her.</p><p>He was beautiful when he came, his jaw locked tight and pleasure flashing across his elegant, ageless face.  How many orgasms had he had, she wondered? How many women had he fucked, how many men? How much had he seen and where had he been and had he been happy before the fall, because he didn’t seem happy now?</p><p>She wanted to know all of it.</p><p>She shuddered as she felt his cum spurt into her. He pulsed inside her in the afterglow, his chest caving with an inhale as she finally lifted herself off him, his seed leaking out onto her inner thighs.</p><p>He had seen so much. He sought only what was new, new adventures, new feelings. He liked her because she was different but now he’d had her, and having her again would just be repetition. Could he feel, she wondered, or had his heart wasted away, like a muscle that atrophies from lack of use?</p><p>Her mind span from it all.</p><p>“Relax, my darling,” he husked suddenly and just like that, she did, “I was made for you too.”<br/><br/></p><hr/><p><br/>Lucifer’s chest swelled with pride, characteristic arrogance tinted with something deeper, as Chloe shivered in the afterglow of her orgasm.</p><p>She was in his bed this time, naked and exhausted and thoroughly well-fucked.</p><p>He had taken his time with her, driving her to peak after peak. She seemed to like his mouth on her the most, her fingers gripping his hair so tight it made him growl into her cunt. Her moans were more like whines, her entire body tensing and pulling taut like a bow as his hot tongue lapped at her, flicking at her clit, until she snapped. She blushed so prettily the first time he kissed her with the taste of her still on his tongue.</p><p>She tasted like the earth and sea, nothing of fire and brimstone, and the sweetness of it reminded him of Eve. He had delighted in corrupting the very first of Dad’s toys, seeking to snuff out that insufferable light she carried with every thrust he made between her legs. He had brought her to ruin that day in the Garden, his knees sinking into plush mud and crisp leaves as he buried his face between her thighs, but worshipping at Chloe’s altar was different. She was God’s creation too—a <em>more</em> direct threat to his liberty, in-fact, a true manipulation—yet he didn’t seek to destroy her at all.</p><p>He propped himself up on his elbows as his dark eyes swept over her body, covered by a flush sheen of sweat. Her tanned skin was a flash of colour against his dark sheets, her honey hair spilling like a halo around her head.</p><p>The Silver City had never been home to him but <em>this… </em>this was heaven.</p><p>And <em>yet</em>—</p><p>That pesky guilt was eating away at him again.</p><p>“Chloe…” he started, the use of her real name dragging her attention to him, “are you happy here?”</p><p>Her expression was difficult to read, smooth and guarded.</p><p>“Are you?”</p><p>He cocked a brow at the deflection.</p><p>“I wasn’t,” he decided to answer honestly, “for a long time. But back then, I never had a queen by my side.”</p><p>She froze, a flicker of surprise passing over her features.</p><p>He kept her gaze, feeling vulnerable for the first time in his very long life, and pushed out what he needed to say.</p><p>“I’ve never felt for anyone the way I feel for you.”</p><p>She sighed, a soft smile pulling at her lips.</p><p>“Me too, Lucifer,” she said, “what we have… it’s bizarre, to say the least, but it’s special.”</p><p>He thought that an understatement. She made him vulnerable. She made him <em>bleed</em>. It was as though everything was muted before, a lens separating him from true feeling. Even his orgasms were more intense, as though he’d be fucking through a barrier, the universe’s strangest condom. With her, every nerve ending in his body fired, eclipsing anything he ever <em>thought</em> was pleasure in the past.</p><p>“You’re deflecting, my dear,” he accused gently.</p><p>She huffed, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth.</p><p>“I’m not <em>un</em>happy,” she shrugged, “Lucifer, I care about you… so much. I want us to be together.  But I’ve also never defined myself by the man I’m with. It’s never been enough for me.”</p><p>“You miss your old life.”</p><p>“I miss <em>being</em> alive,” she scoffed, aware of how ridiculous it sounded, “I miss my Mom and fresh coffee. I miss the beach. I miss the unpredictability of it all, never knowing what’ll come next. I hate feeling powerless. The memories are fine, they’re comforting, but it's not the same. I miss all the cases I’ll never solve and the wedding I’ll never have and the children I’ll never get to hold.”</p><p>His chest ached in sympathy for her. He wanted her to have all those things. He wanted her to have a normal life, to walk in the sun, the light. It had never been in the cards for him, but it was what she deserved.</p><p>He wanted her to be safe and happy.</p><p>A realisation suddenly hit him square in the chest.</p><p>He wanted that more than he wanted it for himself. He cared about her feelings more than his own. </p><p><em>That </em>was new.   </p><p>“And I really wish I’d caught that asshole,” she added quietly, a humourless scoff rolling from her chest.</p><p>Lucifer arched a brow.</p><p>“The one from the case you were working?”</p><p>She hummed.</p><p>“I need to get over it. He’s probably killed again. It would be too late anyway.”</p><p>Her voice was so sad, so broken, and he gently brushed some hair away from her face.</p><p>“Not necessarily,” he murmured, “time moves differently in hell. Thousands of years down here are only months up there.”</p><p>She sat up slightly, clutching the sheets at her breast, letting them dip down in a pool at the small of her back.</p><p>“Really?” she breathed, her eyes flashing with interest, and he could see how much this meant to her.</p><p>He nodded.</p><p>“And what about heaven?” he asked cautiously, “do you still want to go there?”</p><p>She shifted, lifting her leg over him so she could settle in his lap. He hummed, his hands traveling to her backside.</p><p>“Not really,” she murmured, “I imagine the only thing that would be different… is there would be no <em>you</em>.”</p><p>His mouth twisted into a gentle, lazy grin before she leaned down and captured his lips in a soft kiss. His mind buzzed, alive and alert, as a strange sadness swept over him.</p><p>He cradled her face in his hands and kissed her like it was the last time.<br/><br/></p><hr/><p><br/>Amenadiel’s expression was comically wide and shocked. Under different circumstances, Lucifer thought he might have laughed.<br/><br/>“I don’t understand.”</p><p>He rolled his eyes, toying his glass between his fingers.</p><p>“Alright, I’ll repeat myself. I want you to ask Father to bring Chloe back.”</p><p>“To heaven?” Amenadiel asked cautiously.</p><p>“To life.”</p><p>The angel blinked.</p><p>“You know he won’t do that, Luci.”</p><p>“I <em>don’t</em>,” Lucifer argued, “and neither do you. No-one knows why he does the things he does. You can’t just assume he’ll say <em>no</em>—he works in ways far more mysterious than that.”</p><p>His tone was dry, unimpressed, and his brother still looked confused.</p><p>“Why do you even want it?”</p><p>Lucifer sighed. What he felt for Chloe Decker… it was so intense, it was almost painful, a millstone around his neck.</p><p>It was difficult for him to put into words.</p><p>“I want her to be happy,” he shrugged eventually, bristling slightly at how Amenadiel’s eyes softened, “I want her to have the life she deserves, the one that was cut short by that accident. You were right. She doesn’t belong in hell… but she doesn’t belong in heaven either. She belongs on earth, to live and die a normal, happy, <em>human </em>life, surrounded by horrible grandchildren.”</p><p>“Luci, what you’re saying… I think it’s amazing,” Amenadiel said genuinely, “but I don’t know if this is in Father’s plan for her.”</p><p>“And you <em>won’t</em> until you ask,” Lucifer insisted, “just tell him—tell him I will never ask for anything else. Remind him that I have spent <em>millennia</em> down here, diligently following his orders. Tell him…” he paused, his throat burning inexplicably, “I know I disappointed him… but he disappointed me too. I’m his <em>son. </em>Just as much as you, or Michael or Gabriel or <em>any</em> of the others.”</p><p>Amenadiel nodded, his expression melancholy and sad.</p><p>“Brother, you understand <em>if </em>Father agrees to this… you may never see her again.”</p><p>Lucifer’s jaw set, grief hitting him square in the chest. He pushed it down, feeling it sink into the pit of his stomach.</p><p>He gave a short nod and Amenadiel was continuing.</p><p>“If you care about her—”</p><p>“—that’s how <em>much </em>I care about her.”</p><p>His brother’s mouth closed, whatever he was going to say fizzing away on his tongue.</p><p>“You really have changed, Luci,” he said eventually. He looked melancholy and soft and so much like the brother he used to love. They had been so close once, the one person he really trusted, and somewhere along the way, they got lost.</p><p>Lucifer had never begged for anything in his life.</p><p>“Please,” he whispered regardless.</p><p>Amenadiel nodded, clasping a reassuring hand on his shoulder. He kept it there as his wings unfurled, hitting the air like the crack of a whip.  </p><p>And when he returned, bearing the news that Father had said <em>yes</em>, Lucifer tried not to dwell on the sadness that came hand in hand with the relief.<br/><br/></p><hr/><p><br/>Chloe was typing furiously on the replica precinct laptop, her eyes narrowing at the screen.</p><p>She jumped when she felt two hands on her shoulders, so engrossed in what she was doing she hadn’t heard Lucifer approach.</p><p>She sighed, her fingers pausing above the keys, as she leaned back into his touch.</p><p>“Hi.”</p><p>“Hello,” he crooned gently.</p><p>She pulled the screen down on the laptop, twisting on the barstool. Her thighs spread of their own accord to accommodate him as he stepped between them. He was still too tall, his chin dipped to glance down at her with those dark, expressive eyes. There was a smile toying on his lips but it didn’t look quite as carefree as usual, a little tight at the edges.</p><p>“What’s wrong?” she asked.</p><p>He just shook his head, his chest moving with a soft inhale as his eyes flickered to the laptop.</p><p>“What were you researching?” he asked, “the curious case of those squeals you keep hearing at night? Just a recently deceased pig farmer with a guilt complex.”</p><p>She laughed softly, her hands coming up to casually hook around his belt. His own arms remained anchored to his sides, his expression curious as he glanced down at her. She shook her head, not interested in hell’s most recent arrival, but in a human still very much on earth.</p><p>She looked almost embarrassed, her cheeks tinged pink.</p><p>“Still focused on that case,” she chuckled nervously, “I don’t know why I’m torturing myself. It’s not like I can do anything from down here.”</p><p>She felt him tense, the almost imperceptible way he stiffened. If she had been anyone else, she might have missed it, but she <em>knew </em>him.</p><p>“What is it?” she pushed.</p><p>His mouth twitched but it wasn’t quite a smile.</p><p>“What if I told you there <em>was</em> something you could do?” he started, “that you could find him and bring him to justice?”</p><p>Her brows knitted into a frown.</p><p>“Well, I would say you were being cruel,” she scoffed, “because in case you haven’t noticed, he’s walking around on earth while I’m… not. I’m <em>dead</em>.”</p><p>“What if you weren’t?”</p><p>This time, it was her who stiffened, her hands dropping from his belt to her lap. She sat back slightly, her heart skipping a beat and quickening at the solemn look on his face. He wasn’t teasing her. He wasn’t toying with her. She didn’t even have to ask.</p><p>“I don’t understand.”</p><p>He tipped his head to the side, his mouth curving into that melancholy smile again. One of his hands came up to cup her face, his thumb gently stroking over her cheekbone.  </p><p>“Chloe, I would never force you to do anything you don’t want to do,” he started quietly, “you know that, don’t you?”</p><p>She nodded—because she <em>did.</em></p><p>“I called my brother here… the angel Maze told you about,” he said and she felt nervous for a reason she couldn’t put her finger on, “I asked him to give my Father a message—a request, if you will. I asked him to take you home.”</p><p>She swallowed, her eyes and throat inexplicably burning.</p><p>“To heaven?”</p><p>He shook his head, his thumb travelling down to her lips. They parted under his touch, an imploring touch, one that felt like he was memorising every plane of her face. She burned under the implication, the weight of it all.</p><p>“To earth,” he corrected, “I asked him to bring you back to life—and, remarkably, he said <em>yes.</em>”</p><p>Chloe blinked, the words hitting her square in the chest. She felt relief and happiness and sorrow and a hundred other emotions she couldn’t even begin to decipher. Confusion overruled them all and she blinked up at him helplessly.</p><p>She should have been jumping for joy, humbled and ecstatic at this second chance and she <em>was, </em>and yet her gut reaction was to blurt out—</p><p>“You don’t want me anymore?”</p><p>He blinked—as though he had considered every possible reaction but <em>that.</em></p><p>“Of course I do, my darling.”</p><p>“But you’re sending me away.”</p><p>He let out a disbelieving breath, his other hand coming up to cup her cheek. He held her face, his eyes bearing down at her intensely.</p><p>“No,” he murmured, “I’m not. I told you, I won’t force you either way, but I had to ask. I had to try and give you the choice. The <em>chance</em>. I’ve been selfish with you because that’s pretty much my default position—but I don’t want to be that way anymore. You make me want to be a better man… and a better man would realise that keeping you here… is unfair to you.”</p><p>She swallowed past the lump in her throat, hardly able to believe he had done that for her. She knew how hard it must have been, to put his pride aside and <em>ask</em> for a favour, rather than grant it. Especially to ask it of his Father, and if he felt even <em>half</em> of what she felt, she also understood how painful it would be for him to let her go.</p><p>The fact that he was willing to nonetheless made her chest feel too tight.</p><p>Tears burned behind her eyelids, her throat on fire.</p><p>“I’d be alive…” she whispered in awe.</p><p>One corner of his mouth lifted gently.</p><p>“You could see your Mum and your friends and drink that intolerable swill you call coffee,” he teased, his nose scrunching, “you could walk on the beach, in the <em>light. </em>You could solve that case you can’t stop thinking about—and a hundred more. You could marry boring old Dan and have lots of horrible offsprings. I hear some people find the lifelong burden fulfilling.”</p><p>His tone was light but the joke rang hollow.</p><p>“What about you?” she whispered, her hand coming up to gently rest over his heart.</p><p>She felt it beat under her palm, steady and strong.  </p><p>“I’ll be here,” he said simply, “I’ll always be here.”</p><p>She sighed, tiny shards of pain stabbing at her heart like glass. It felt like she was dragging them in with every breath, pulled in two very different directions.</p><p>“Would you visit me?” she asked.</p><p>“I don’t think that would be wise,” he said softly, “visits from the devil aren’t exactly part of a healthy, <em>human</em> life. It needs to be a clean break.”</p><p>She wanted to protest, because she could feel him and touch him and nothing about this felt <em>clean. </em></p><p>“You could come with me,” she tried but he shook his head again.</p><p>“And what would <em>I</em> do on earth?” he asked, laughing slightly in disbelief, and <em>okay, </em>he wouldn’t be a king anymore, but he would be hers.</p><p>“Be with me.”</p><p>She felt the movement of his chest under her palm as he sighed again.</p><p>“My place is here,” he said, “the demons need to be kept in line. They need a king.”  </p><p>His voice was smooth and dark, like the chocolate she could have again, and deep down, she knew he was right. She knew the right thing was often the hardest thing.  </p><p>She wanted him, <em>always</em>, but she wanted a life too.</p><p>“How much time do we have?” she asked hollowly.  </p><p>He let his hand fall from her face and stood before her. Then, he let his body do the talking as his wings unfurled in a flurry of white, hitting the air with a sharp crack. It stole the breath from her lungs, her lips parting in a stunned gasp, as they arched high around him. He looked handsome and strong, like the angel he said he wasn’t, and she reached for him again.</p><p>“Not yet,” she whispered, “let me have you one last time.”</p><p>“Out with a bang?” he grinned, “alright then, I’ll give you the best shag of your life so you don’t forget me.”</p><p>She rolled her eyes and smiled too but her reply was serious when she said—</p><p>“I will never forget you.”</p><p>He wrapped her up in his arms, pulling her off the bar stool with her legs locked tight around his waist. A pleased hum rumbled from his chest as her hand drifted across his taut shoulder blade and she threaded her fingers through the snow-white feathers there. His mouth was attached to hers in a sweet kiss as he walked them towards the stairs, but she couldn’t wait, so closed her eyes and imagined a bed right there and then.</p><p>He grunted in surprise as his back hit the sheets, her thighs straddling his hips. He smirked but didn’t speak as she leaned down and kissed him again, her hair a golden curtain, shielding them from the world.</p><p>In the moment, it was just them, and when he finally slid inside her she tried not to dwell on how <em>this</em> felt like home.</p><p>An hour later, while his fingers absentmindedly combed through her hair and she basked in the afterglow, she allowed her mind to wander. She allowed herself a moment to daydream about the life they could have had, had they just been two normal people. If she were just a woman, not a miracle, and he were just a man, with a taste for rich whiskey and expensive suits. He would never have ruled over hell and she would never have seen it.</p><p>She imagined all the things they could do if only they had more time, and with that different life in her mind, she whispered—</p><p>“Would you have loved me?”</p><p>He glanced down at her with an absent hum, the metal of his ring gently scratching her scalp as his fingers threaded through her hair.</p><p>“Darling, I didn’t know what it was until I met you.”<br/><br/></p><hr/><p><br/>A decade passed for Chloe Decker on Earth—but Lucifer couldn’t even count the years.</p><p>They all merged into one, this twisted, mangled mess of time. He woke, he meted out punishments, he drank, he slept and he woke to do it all over again—and through it all, she was never far from his mind.</p><p>He thought of her often. He wondered what she looked like, likely in her early thirties now, and if she ever married that cop and popped out one of those horrible spawns he so despised. He imagined she would have made detective by now but he never wondered if she ever solved that case because he just <em>knew </em>she had. He wondered if she was safe and if she was happy and if she missed him… because he missed her, <em>so much. </em></p><p>Sometimes on those particularly cold, lonely nights, her scent somehow still lingering on his sheets after all these years, he wondered if he’d made a mistake. He always pushed it down, but the pesky doubt shimmied over his skin, fighting for a way in.</p><p>Somewhere in that yawning chasm of time—more than ten millennia, less than twenty—Maze was dropping a human at his feet.   </p><p>“Are you…” the man looked up at him with wide, frightened eyes, “are you Lucifer?”</p><p>Lucifer sat back in his throne, his brow arching smoothly.</p><p>“The one and only.”</p><p>“I have a message for you,” the man’s voice was strained against the foot Maze had pressed against his throat. Lucifer waved a hand, gesturing for her to let go. She did, dropping back with a pout.</p><p>Mild curiosity danced like a flame inside him as he said, “go on.”</p><p>“I was shot by the LAPD,” he grumbled, his eyes glazing over with the memory of it, and Lucifer’s brow climbed to his hairline again at everything he probably was leaving out, “the pigs finally got me—but before I… <em>died</em>… as I was fucking bleeding out, this detective asked me to give you a message.”</p><p>Lucifer stilled, his eyes dragging slowly to Maze. He saw his surprise reflected there and he knew they were thinking the same thing by the subtle way her jaw twitched.</p><p>“What did this detective look like?”</p><p>The man shrugged, shuffling until he was kneeling on the cold stone.</p><p>“She was hot. Smokin’, really. Blue eyes, banging bod—”</p><p>“—yes, thank you,” Lucifer bit out shortly, “what was the message?”</p><p>“She said… <em>when you get down there, tell Lucifer I need him. Tell him I need his help</em>.”</p><p>Lucifer’s gut twisted painfully, both at the seeming confirmation it must be her and the notion that she could be in trouble.  </p><p>Maze cocked her split brow, crossing her arms over her chest.</p><p>“How did she know you were going to hell?” she asked.</p><p>He shifted, hiding behind bravado as his lips tried to form a smirk.</p><p>“Done some <em>pretty</em> bad things in my life, sweetheart,” he said smugly, “theft, torture, rape… I’ve <em>killed </em>people…”</p><p>“Really?” Maze breathed, her eyes wide, and only Lucifer could read the mocking edge to her voice.  </p><p>He sounded proud of himself, his chest puffed, but he was still <em>here, </em>dragged to hell, so Lucifer knew that overwhelming guilt raged beneath the surface. These humans were always more fun to break, the ones who stubbornly refused to recognise their own hideousness, and under different circumstances, he would’ve enjoyed unravelling him.</p><p>Alas, he had an old lover to visit, so he stood and gave his jacket a casual tug.  </p><p>“Get rid of him, will you?”</p><p>Maze grinned, grabbing the human who started to struggle, his eyes wide.</p><p>“What?” he breathed out, outraged, “she said you would let me go! She said if I gave you that message, I would be free!”</p><p>Lucifer and Maze looked at each other, wearing matching expressions, half surprised, half impressed. He thought about it for a moment before he smirked, feeling very proud indeed.</p><p>“She had to make sure you would give it to me,” he told him, “she played you… my clever detective.”</p><p>“That bitch!” he howled, struggling wildly against Maze’s iron tight grip, “I want to go home!”</p><p>He must have got one good punch in, his elbow flying back into her stomach because the demon grunted—more in irritation, than pain—and her face suddenly morphed.</p><p>One side of her face twisted from perfect smooth dark skin into twisted, mangled flesh. Her eye turned black, the skin melting and dipping into gaping holes. It had never bothered Lucifer—in-fact, they’d fucked many times while they were both in their demon forms, something brutal and fierce in their coupling—but the human cried out and scrambled backwards. </p><p>He grabbed him by the collar and pulled him right back.</p><p>He clasped a hand on his shoulder, his eyes flashing bright red.</p><p>“This is your home now,” his voice dipped into that husky, inhuman growl before his full devil face flared, “for eternity.”</p><p>He screamed as he was dragged away, his feet kicking wildly against the stone floor, and when Maze re-appeared a few minutes later, she was alone.</p><p>He already had his wings out, ready to go, when she took hold of his shoulders. She raised her leg and hitched it on his hip.</p><p>“What are you doing?” he frowned as she picked up his limp arm and wrapped it around her waist.</p><p>“I told you—I will <em>always </em>protect you,” she said fiercely, “whatever the danger, I’ll be there to stop it… on this plane or any other. You’re not going without me.”</p><p>He considered her, his dark eyes flitting over her face to try and read her actions, her motivations.</p><p>She rolled her eyes.</p><p>“I’m not going to try and <em>bone</em> you, if that’s what you’re worried about,” she scoffed dryly, casually draping her arms around his neck, “that ship sailed a few millennia ago.”</p><p>He smirked, relenting with a sigh of defeat.</p><p>“Alright then, Mazie. Let’s go raise... well, <em>you know what</em> on earth.”  </p><p>He held her close to his body and turned his eyes upward.<br/><br/></p><hr/><p><br/>Lucifer walked into the precinct, his nose scrunching at the smell of stale sweat and burnt coffee.</p><p>After a few minutes of asking around and using his powers of persuasion, he found himself face to face with one of those terrible, taxing burdens he hoped he’d never meet.</p><p>“Oh hello, small human,” he said primly, “I’m looking for Miss Decker.”</p><p>The little human blinked, her eyes wide and dark, and then she sat forward in her chair. She was at the desk he’d been told he’d find Chloe and she casually folded her hands over the surface.</p><p>“What do you want with her?” she asked slowly, her brow arching in curiosity and Lucifer held back an amused, <em>reluctantly</em> impressed laugh.</p><p>He opened his mouth to reply when he suddenly recognised that look on her face. He had seen it before, that mixture of shrewd suspicion and intrigue. It was clever and sharp and undeniably, incessantly, infuriatingly <em>stubborn</em>. His eyes fell to the framed photograph on the desk and with a warmth in his chest, his suspicions were confirmed.</p><p>“She’s your mother,” he murmured.</p><p>The girl—less than ten years old, more than five (he had never been good with human ages)—followed his gaze to find the photograph. She slowly tipped it over, laying it face down on the desk, and obstinately lifted her chin.</p><p>“Maybe…” she drawled shiftily.</p><p>His lips twitched into a smirk, equal parts amused and impressed, and this little urchin was exactly what he imagined for her. He felt strangely vindicated, pleased that she had spawned the life she’d so clearly desired, even if he didn’t quite understand why. His relief was somewhat soured when he realised the child had a father and that meant Chloe had found <em>that</em> too—it made him feel a little nauseous, even though he’d wanted that for her.</p><p>He’d wanted her to find a man who could give her everything he couldn’t.</p><p>Suddenly the air shifted and changed and Lucifer <em>knew</em>—she was here.</p><p>He slowly turned around and saw her making her way towards them, her smile soft but <em>blinding</em>. Time had been kind to her. Her youthful face had sharpened and softened in all the right places, as though she had grown into herself. Her hair was a little darker, more a light brown than the dusty honey he used to run his fingers through, and tied back into a sophisticated bun. There was a deep flush painted high on her cheekbones, perhaps from the heat, perhaps from seeing him again, and her eyes shone with a sort of strength and clarity he hadn’t seen before.</p><p>She had always been beautiful, especially to him, but now she was stunning. She was the light to his dark, he realised, her absence the reason he’d been so cold for so long. His mind span from seeing her again, a tight ache in his chest, and it hurt but he couldn’t look away.</p><p>“Hello Lucifer,” she breathed in a voice he had waited millennia to hear.</p><p>His lips twitched into a gentle smile.</p><p>“Hello, Detective.”</p><p>He registered the slight tremble to her lip as he called her that, finally true after all these years.</p><p>“Who is this, Mommy?” the spawn asked and it felt strange to hear her called as such. He watched as she moved over to the child and gently stroked some hair from her face.</p><p>Her warm gaze remained focused on him as she undoubtedly tried to think of how to put their relationship into words—this strange and rare and beautiful thing between them.  </p><p>When she finally answered, her voice was soft.</p><p>“An old friend.”<br/><br/></p><hr/><p><br/>“Are you going to <em>pump</em> me for information, Detective?”</p><p>Chloe laughed as she pushed him into the interrogation room, his tone flirtatious and utterly delighted. The door clicked behind them and then he was leaning against the cold, clinical table in the middle of the room and she wasn’t laughing anymore.</p><p>He looked just the same. Dressed in a black suit with stubble lining his sharp jaw; timeless in his beauty. But she wasn’t. She wasn’t in her twenties anymore, and her hips were a little fuller and there were silvery marks there from where she’d birthed Trixie. She was struck by the irrational fear that he might not find her beautiful. He might not want her anymore.</p><p>He might not have longed for her every day, the way she had longed for him.</p><p>But he was <em>here</em>, she reminded herself. He had answered her call, and he was still waiting for her now, waiting for her to break the silence.</p><p>“Hi,” she breathed again—because it didn’t seem <em>real</em>.</p><p>His mouth twitched, his brow arching in amusement.</p><p>“Hello.”</p><p>She opened her mouth to say something but her eyes and throat were burning from the intensity of it all and she just <em>couldn’t</em>. He took pity on her, his calm aura attempting to put her at ease.</p><p>“So you <em>did</em> pop out one of those horrible offsprings,” he teased but his voice was kind.</p><p>She laughed in relief.</p><p>“Her name is Trixie.”</p><p>“That’s a hooker’s name.”</p><p>She rolled her eyes because he was ridiculous and just the same and she’d <em>missed</em> him.</p><p>“She’s amazing,” she said, unable to stop the proud smile that tugged at her lips, “she’s smart and kind and so funny. You’d like her. I think she’d change your mind about kids.”</p><p>“Well, if anyone’s offspring could, it would be yours,” he conceded with a little shrug, “and her father?”</p><p>She noticed the slight clench to his jaw as he asked, the way the lower lid of one of his eyes twitched before he got himself in check.</p><p>“Dan,” she said quietly, “I <em>did</em> end up marrying him.”</p><p>If she were anyone else, she might have missed the sharp flicker of pain that swept over his features—but she wasn’t. She was <em>her </em>and they were <em>them </em>and there was a reason there was no ring on her finger now.</p><p>“I’m happy for you, Detective,” he said and he almost sounded genuine, “truly, I am. Now do you want to tell me why you called me here? That horrible human you sent—very clever, by the way—said you were in trouble.”</p><p>She took a step towards him.</p><p>“I might have told a <em>little</em>, white lie…” she started, registering the way his eyes flashed with interest, “I’m not in trouble. I called you here because… I did everything you told me to do. I built my life from scratch. I closed that case. I brought that guy to justice, and I rose up the ranks pretty quickly to become detective. I spent time with my Mom and took so many walks on the beach. I went on that third date with Dan and ended up marrying him. I loved him, I did, and Trixie’s the most important thing in the world to me, so I’ll always love him more for that. But the love I felt—<em>feel</em>—for you… Lucifer, it’s different.”</p><p>She watched his expression change, surprise sweeping over his face. His entire body grew tight, taut, and his hands were curving into the table's edge behind him. She took another step forward and forced herself to be brave.</p><p>She’d known the truth from the moment he left her here, but she’d done everything she needed to do, she’d <em>lived</em>, and now it was right time to tell him.</p><p>“I loved Dan in a way that was safe. He was good to me and I cared about him, but I never felt for him the way I felt for you,” with him, it had been all fire and passion—a love so intense, it was almost painful. Divorcing Dan, walking away from him, it hadn’t hurt nearly as much, “it never could have worked between me and him, I see that now. Because in the end... everything brought me back to you.”</p><p>She looked up at him, solemn and beautiful even in the glow of the room’s clinical lights, and she reached for him. She took his hand and entwined their fingers, holding them between their chests.</p><p>“Don't get me wrong, I haven’t been up here pining for you all these years,” she insisted because it felt very important to say, her expression headstrong and stubborn, “I’ve been happy. I have a wonderful life, I’ve <em>lived… </em>but I still want you. That’s why I called you up here, not because I need your help or I need you… but because I <em>choose</em> you. And maybe that’s okay. I don’t think it has to be one or the other. Maybe I can have both.”</p><p>“You mean have your cake and eat me too?” he grinned.</p><p>She rolled her eyes but couldn’t stop her smile, her hands tightening around his.</p><p>“That is… if you still want <em>me</em>.”</p><p>He exhaled, a little shaky and disbelieving.</p><p>“I told you, time moves differently down there… for you, it might have been a decade, but for me, it’s been thousands of years.”</p><p>She faltered, wondering if that meant he didn’t feel the same way, if it meant he didn’t want her, but then he was throwing her that lopsided, blinding grin again and elaborating—</p><p>“<em>Thousands of years</em>… and there wasn’t one day when I didn’t think of you.”</p><p>She breathed a sigh of relief, her eyes and throat beginning to burn, because she had waited so many years for this. It finally felt like the right time, and she could see straight away how much she’d changed him. Even the way he held himself—he was so far removed from the powerful king of hell she met all those years ago. Of course, he was still powerful. He still held an air of authority, commanding attention, but she had teased him open for her. She had shattered the barrier behind those dark and secretive eyes, the smile that never quite reached them.</p><p>“If you stay with me…" she said, "if you choose me too… we can make it work.”</p><p>She didn’t care that he was the devil, she <em>knew</em> him, and she didn’t want a normal life if that meant one more day without him.</p><p>She watched the movement of his throat as he swallowed. Maybe he didn’t want a normal life either—or what was normal for <em>him, </em>at least—because he was pulling her closer.</p><p>“I suppose I <em>am</em> overdue a vacation,” he purred, letting go of her hands so he could wind his arms around her waist instead, “maybe it’s time for the demons to be big boys and girls. It won’t be easy, but maybe it’s not meant to be.”</p><p>She smiled, her heart feeling too big for her chest, and pulled him in for the kiss a decade overdue.</p><p>“I’m actually in need of a partner,” she murmured against his lips, drunk on whiskey and smoke, and she thought of that corrupt cop and Palmetto street and the disdainful way her colleagues looked at her, “you ever had an interest in police work?”  </p><p>He kissed her again and sent her another heartbreakingly blinding smile.</p><p>“I do now, darling.”<br/><br/></p><hr/><p><br/>Amenadiel looked down at the earth below, hardly able to believe what he was seeing.</p><p>“He really cares about her,” he breathed, more to himself than anyone else, but his Father replied nonetheless.</p><p>“It certainly seems that way.”</p><p>“I was surprised you agreed to bring her back in the first place,” he said, “and now you’re going to allow Lucifer to stay on earth, his sentence complete?”</p><p>“For now,” he murmured, “let him enjoy his time with her.”</p><p>Amenadiel struggled to understand, remembering what Lucifer had said about their Father working in mysterious ways, and then his mind sparked with a strange theory.</p><p>“Did you know this would happen? Was this one of your<em> tests?</em>” he asked, “to make him feel, to make him put someone’s needs above his own… to learn what it means to love and be loved in return?”</p><p>God didn’t directly answer the question, but a secretive, cryptic sort of smile curved his lips.</p><p>“A parent just wants what’s best for their child,” he said—and the heavens glowed in agreement.<br/><br/></p><hr/><p>
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  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>EDIT: also guys how fitting is this amazing art by Mitashade? (https://www.deviantart.com/mitashade) totally how I imagine these two in hell 😰</p><p>I purposefully left God's intentions ambiguous here, just like in the show... it's up to you guys to try and decipher his mysterious ways ;)</p><p>Hope you enjoyed this second chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it! Until next time, stay safe lovelies &lt;3</p>
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